


With Every Broken Bone

by spaceorphan



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, M/M, Romance, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-08-31 08:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8571253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceorphan/pseuds/spaceorphan
Summary: After finding that living together is proving to be too difficult, Kurt Hummel breaks off his engagement, and finds himself alone in the city that summer.  As his life heads in a new direction, Kurt's forced to look back at the past, and re-examine his future, where he learns a little about himself, a lot about love, and that second chances are always a possibility.  Set at the end of season 5, a canon-compliant story that examines the question -- What was Kurt's journey between season 5 and season 6?





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> A shout and a deep thank you to [Multsicorn](http://multsicorn.tumblr.com) for her inspiration. The story would have remained a sketch and an idea if she hadn't encouraged me to write more, and help me work out the details of what the story should be. Those long, late-night talks made this story what it is. 
> 
> Much appreciation and love for my betas: [Damnpene](http://damnpene.tumblr.com), who forced me to be diligent and careful, and not let me take shortcuts -- thank you my dear for not sugarcoating anything. [Snarkyhag](http://snarkyhag.tumblr.com), who is a consummate cheerleader and inspiration, and not afraid to tell it like it is -- thank you for holding my hand through my first smut. You've both helped me craft a story I'm very proud of, and have made me a better writer because of it.

The lovely and talented [47mel47](http://47mel47.tumblr.com) [created a trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAEpoUd2mrg&feature=youtu.be) for the fic. I highly recommend you check it out before reading!! My story is set in the cracks of canon, and she was able to brilliantly come up with a fanvid that represents everything the story is. I can't thank her enough.

To go along with Mel's awesome trailer, I made a playlist of music I listened to while writing. The songs are meant to flow together to get a feel for the fic. There's a song for each chapter. Check it out!

SO's KHBB (Not-Really-)Summer Playlist:

  1. Chapter 1 (March): [Teenage Dream - Darren Criss](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JuHTKcwg48E)
  2. Chapter 2 (April): [Shake it Out (Acoustic) - Florence and the Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FyGUg9u_psU)
  3. Chapter 3 (May): [Rockstar - A Great Big World](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtROijZqCb8)
  4. Chapter 4 (June): [I Shall Believe - Sheryl Crow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3Nnrj6i9Vk)
  5. Chapter 5 (July): [Daydream Believer - Mary Beth Maziarz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ITi_CGJOyyE)
  6. Chapter 6 (August): [Dream City - Free Energy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MZ8hwmtbK7k)
  7. Chapter 7 (September): [Head Over Feet (Acoustic) - Alanis Morissette](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6R5bRw6kkDY)
  8. Chapter 8 (October): [Halo - Beyonce](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnVUHWCynig)
  9. Chapter 9 (November): [I Live - Fate Under Fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cRyBKn9Fpc)



 /

_Here's what you missed on Glee...._

Kurt and Blaine have this perfect storybook romance, and even though they were broken up for a while, they end up engaged and are planning to get married before they're even twenty! They live in New York City together where everything is going swimmingly, (aren't they so cute holding hands and buying flowers and stuff?), until we open the season and find that Blaine is back in Lima teaching and dating another man, while Kurt is single in NYC writing a script for a stage production of Real Housewives....  Wait -- hold up.  How did that happen?  

 

 


	2. Chapter One: Not The Boy Next Door

_You’ve been saving those souvenirs_  
_Faded photographs from our foolish years_  
_We made plans but they’re wearin’ thin_  
_And they don’t work out cause I don’t fit in_

 

**March 2011**

Kurt’s in Blaine’s dorm room, sitting on Blaine’s bed.  It’s not like he hasn’t been here a hundred times before, on the bed no less.  But their bodies have never been this close before, Blaine’s arms wrapped around Kurt’s waist, mapping his back as they trade sweet kisses.  He’s dreamt about Blaine’s touch a thousand times, and now he gets to feel it for real.  It’s so much better than anything he could have ever imagined.

It’s evening.  Unlike the hurried and desperate make out session in the common room, which had been amazing, they now have all the time in the world to explore each other.  But this--this is a whole other level.  Blaine’s kisses, which taste of mint and raspberry and real boy, are the best thing; warm and lingering, making Kurt feel like the most cherished person in the world.  He could do this forever if the world allowed it.  

Blaine pulls away, and Kurt follows him for a moment, trying to hang on because he is not yet done.  Blaine laughs as they break apart, and catches his breath as he starts to unbutton the blazer.  Kurt’s eyes widen as Blaine gracefully shrugs off the blazer, watching the muscles shift underneath his shirt.   He looks away, but can’t help looking back.  It’s Blaine, and he is, _now_ , allowed to look.  Blaine preens a little.  He doesn’t seem to mind...

“It’s getting hot in here,” Blaine says innocently, a slight tint of red coming to his cheeks.  Kurt feels almost suffocatingly hot in his sweater, but its removal would be almost too much.  

Blaine draws in close again, his golden eyes lustful, which for Kurt is more enticing than it is nerve wracking.  Blaine’s lips hover over his ready for more.  

“Wait.”  Kurt places a hand on Blaine’s chest. There’s a question that has been on the back of his mind all afternoon, and he has to ask now before Blaine distracts him too much further.  “So, um, does this mean that---I mean is this---are we--” It’s hard to concentrate with Blaine looking at him so wantingly.  

Blaine brings a hand up to cup his face and strokes his cheek.  “Kurt, are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

Kurt nods slowly.

Blaine shifts uneasily, and for a moment Kurt thinks he has misinterpreted something.  

“I still don’t have any idea what I’m doing,” Blaine admits.  “But Kurt, you are one of the most amazing people I have ever met, and I would like to try to figure it out with you.  If you let me.”  

“So, that’s a definite yes, right?”

“Of course it’s a yes.”

Kurt bounces giddily -- he has a boyfriend now. He has _Blaine_ as a boyfriend.  And he can’t wait to shove that fact in the world’s face.  

But suddenly, Blaine’s lips crash onto his, and Kurt’s once again swept away in Blaine’s kiss.  

 

**March 2014**

When Kurt returns home from class, Blaine and Rachel are at the kitchen table, dozens of wedding magazines strewn across it.  Kurt tries not to groan but does roll his eyes.  He had a long day, the last thing he needs is to be bombarded by this.  Blaine and Rachel are too busy chattering happily away to notice he’s come home, which gives him a nice moment to force on a smile before it starts.  

Blaine’s eyes light up when he sees Kurt.  “Kurt, Rachel just found a whole box of these thrown out behind bridal boutique next to her theater.  They look like they’re a few years old, but there are some great ideas in some of these.”

“Great, that’ll be a fun story,” Kurt says.  “Planned my wedding using someone else’s garbage.  Who says you can’t recycle someone else’s hopes and dreams?”

Blaine deflates as he gets up from the table.  He grabs his bag from the back of the chair.  “I have to go to class.  But, just, take a look.  Who knows, maybe something will spark your interest.”

“Sure,” Kurt says, half-heartedly.  

“Well, I’ll be back late tonight, so don’t wait up.” Blaine gives him a stiff kiss on the corner of his mouth.  “Love you.”

“Love you.”

Kurt watches him leave, feeling a little grateful that it’s Thursday, which means it’s Blaine’s night class, and Rachel’s show, and that he gets the loft all to himself tonight.  It’s been a pain in the ass day.  At least he can spend his evening in relative peace, watching crappy reality and ordering take out from the place down the street.  

He takes Blaine’s empty seat, and scans the magazines on the table.  Nothing about it looks intriguing.  

“Check this out,” Rachel says, out of the magazine she has her nose buried in, “these invitations are so cute, and cost efficient.  And they even have canaries, how adorable is that?  We could easily make these here with a little reworking.”  

“I’m not making my own wedding invitations.”

Rachel gives him a sidelong look.  “Why are you being such a buzzkill lately? You love wedding planning. You helped plan your dad’s wedding.  You helped plan mine with Finn! You don’t even seem interested in your own.  It’s not like you.”

“I didn’t exactly help you,” Kurt says, closing up the magazines one by one and throwing them back into the box they came in.  “I said I would help you, after you graduated college, when you both were better prepared to be in a marriage.”

Rachel leans forward onto her elbow, placing her head in her palm, watching him as he cleans off the table.  He knows what she’s doing, waiting for him to spill something, but he isn’t sure he even has anything to say.  

“Kurt, look, I’ve known you--I’ve know you both for a long time now,” she says.  “And I know I’m not always the most attentive.  I know I’ve been busy with the show, and this LA thing, and Santana has me running around doing five charity things a week to help with my image, but it doesn’t take a genius to notice that you and Blaine are not on the same page.  And he notices it, too, even if you’re both too stubborn to actually talk to each other about it.”

“We talk all the time,” Kurt says, letting the last of the magazines fall onto the pile with a flop.

“About how you feel?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Rach,” he says, his anger rising quickly to the top. The rant has been building for some time now.   “It’s like the wedding is the only thing he can talk about.   I mean, does this all have to be done right now?  I pretty sure next year, or after we graduate, there will still be a wedding industry.  Forgive me, but I really prefer focusing on getting through finals first.  Why is that too much to ask?”

Rachel slides out of her chair to come behind him, giving him a hug.  “Well then you have to tell him that.”  She tousles his hair.  He swats her away.  “Because right now, he’s holding on tight because he’s afraid that you might not want this wedding at all.  You’ve got to know that, right?”

Kurt tries to ignore the unsettling feeling growing in his stomach.  “I know,” he says softly.  

“Talk to him!” Rachel echoes as she leaves the kitchen for her corner of the loft.  

Kurt glances down to box to where one of the magazines has flipped open, revealing a happy bride staring lovingly at her handsome groom.  It feels as though it’s mocking him.  He kicks the box, causing the magazine to slide shut before heading to his own corner.  

***

Kurt had thought Rachel moving out would make things easier.  With Rachel gone, they’re able to be themselves.  And it has its perks; no more waking up to Rachel’s vocal warm ups, less hair in the drain, and the luxury of being able to walk around naked whenever they feet like it.  For some reason, however, the loft feels smaller than it did before.  Rachel’s absence amplifies that it’s just the two of them in one giant room.

And Kurt thought it would be easier than this.

“I think we should move the bed,” Blaine says, one afternoon, pacing the living room as Kurt sits on the couch trying to finish an essay for his musical theater history class.  

“Why?” Kurt asks, not bothering looking up.  His initial reaction is a firm ‘no’, but Blaine’s going to explain anyway.

“Because then when I have to get up to pee in the middle of the night, the bathroom is right there,” Blaine answers.  “And I won’t trip on the nine hundred things blocking the way in the process.”

“Why don’t you just drink less water before bed?”

Blaine stares at him dumbfounded.  “Hydration, Kurt.  I have to keep hydrated to, you know, live.”  

Kurt groans.  “I don’t want to move the bed, Blaine.  Besides, Rachel’s stuff is still there.”

“And we’re sending that back to her dads.”

“And the window’s right there.  It’s already freezing enough--”

“Are you crazy? It’s stuffy and hot because you never let me open any windows--”

“Wear less clothes, it’s not that hard.  And the sunlight that comes in from there is too much.  If anything, we can put plants in that corner or something.”

“Yes, because plants are more important than my comfort.”

“What are you even talking about?”

Blaine continues to pace, staring at the ground intently.  Kurt taps his pencil on his pad of paper waiting to hear where this is going to go.  Blaine’s hesitant before he speaks.

“I still don’t feel like this is my place.”

Kurt takes a deep breath before speaking.  He really doesn’t want to start another screaming match with Blaine, but it feels like they’re on the verge of one.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I gave you your desk area.  Your stuff takes up a majority of the bathroom, and the living room, and if anything I feel like I’m being pushed back into a corner.  The bed area is the only place that feels like it’s actually mine, and so, yes, that is the biggest reason that I don’t want to my move bed.”

“See!” Blaine balls his fists, his voice tight. “That’s what I’m talking about.  When does it get to be _our_ bed?  When does it stop being _your_ things and _my_ things, but _our_ things?  I feel like I can’t buy anything for the loft without getting your approval that it matches whatever stupid Feng Shui thing you think you have going.  But really, it’s all just impractical.”  

Kurt slams his textbook shut, and shoots off the couch.  “Fine, Blaine, you want to make this place however you want, go for it.  It’s just four walls and a ceiling.  Who really cares, right?”

And just like that, Blaine relents.  “You know what, forget it.”  He goes for his jacket and his keys from the kitchen table.  

“Where are you going?” Kurt asks, following him.  

“Not here.”

Blaine’s gone for hours.  There’s a part of Kurt that’s so angry with Blaine, for leaving like that, for being so dismissive of all the time he’s spent making the loft feel like a home, for making him feel like he has to change everything to make Blaine happy, that he’s fine with Blaine being gone for a while.  He gets his essay done, though it takes him longer than usual to finish it.  He makes himself dinner, does the dishes, picks up the living room.  Tries not to think about where Blaine is.  If he wants to go pout somewhere, that’s his business.  But it’s getting late, and Blaine hasn’t texted, and there’s still a nagging part that wants to make sure he’s okay.  He checks his phone every few minutes, knowing that Blaine’s not going to contact him until he gets back.  

Kurt tries to watch some TV, but feels restless so decides to clean up more of the loft.  In the process, he thinks about how they could rearrange once Rachel’s stuff is gone. He begrudgingly admits that the bed in the other corner isn’t the worst idea.  Maybe if they got a thermal curtain for it.  He spends the rest of his evening going over ideas in his head.    

Blaine gets back to the loft around midnight.  

“Where have you been?”

“Just--on a walk.”

Kurt’s frustrated by the non-answer but lets it go.  “I, um, have been doing some thinking.  And if you want to have a grown up talk about moving things around, then I might be open to the idea.”

Blaine shakes his head dismissively.  “Just forget about it,” he says.  “It’d just be another headache we don’t need.”  

They go to bed without another word to each other.

***

The next day, Kurt returns home from class to find Blaine sitting on the couch, sheet music for some assignment spread everywhere around him.  He’s looking particularly gorgeous that evening, even if he’s only wearing one of Kurt’s old shirts and a pair of boxers.  His hair is slightly damp, from water not from gel, and curling at the ends.  Despite the distance between them lately, Kurt still finds him breathtaking, and maybe if they can’t fix things with words, there are other things they can try.  

“Hey,” Kurt says.  He pushes some of the music aside to sit on the edge of the coffee table.  It takes a moment to gain Blaine’s attention, and when he does, Blaine looks exhausted.  

“Hey,” Blaine replies softly, then goes back to staring at sheet music, intently ignoring Kurt.  

Kurt becomes slightly annoyed, but then remembers that there is one thing in this relationship that’s still working for them, and he’s not about to let negative feelings ruin that, too.  

“I was thinking, you and I could spend some time together tonight.” Kurt pulls the music out of Blaine’s hands, letting it drop to the floor, and slides onto Blaine’s lap.  He draws in close, putting his arms around Blaine’s neck.  

“Hey, Kurt--” Blaine protests. “I was actually working on something.”

“It’s Friday night,” Kurt says.  “When’s the last time we enjoyed one of those?   Besides, last night you said I didn’t make you feel comfortable, so this is me--trying to make you feel comfortable.”

“This isn’t what--oh…”

Kurt reaches between them and begins stroking Blaine’s cock through his boxers.

“I just showered.”

“So?”

Kurt lunges in for a kiss, deep and lingering, the way Blaine likes it.  Blaine’s resolve crumbles quickly.  Kurt smiles into the kiss.  They make out for a while, unhurried, enjoying each other in a way they haven’t in quite a long time.  He’s missed this.  Feeling this close to Blaine.  It feels like forever.  It feels almost as if they’re connected again.  

Kurt rolls his hips against Blaine’s, bringing a little urgency.  Blaine places his hands on Kurt’s hips, thrusting with him, but they can’t quite get a good angle.  

“We should probably bring this to the bedroom,” Kurt whispers into his ear. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your assignment.”

Blaine looks at him with dark eyes.  “We should.”

It isn’t long until they’re both naked on the bed.  Kurt’s on his stomach with Blaine behind him, fucking into him.  Kurt relaxes and lets Blaine just take him.  Everything’s been so tense lately, this is just what he needed.  He raises his ass a little higher so Blaine can get a better angle and -- oh -- yes, that spot’s perfect.  Kurt’s practically purring.

“Oh, god, Blaine...fu-uck...just keep fucking me like that, oh god, Blaine, I love you…”

Blaine’s rhythm suddenly changes, but instead of speeding up, he slows down, until he’s completely stopped.  Kurt turns his head to see what’s wrong.  Blaine’s got a frown on his face as he pulls out completely.  

“I’m not going to finish tonight,” he says.

“What?” They’ve never just stopped right in the middle before.

But Blaine’s guiding his hips, turning Kurt around so he’s on his back.  “Here, let me blow you so you can finish.”

In a mere second, Blaine’s mouth is on him, sucking a few times before letting Kurt fuck his mouth.  When he’s close, Blaine pulls off, and mouths at his balls, while jacking him off in his hand.  It’s not long before he’s coming into Blaine’s hand, a much needed, and welcome release.   He’s seeing stars.  It hasn’t been that good in so long.

Blaine gives his softening cock a gentle kiss before reaching over to the nightstand to grab some tissue.

“Blaine that was amazing,” Kurt pants. Blaine’s hovering over him slightly, so Kurt pulls him down for a sweet kiss.   “Give me a second, and I’ll return the favor.”

“It’s fine,” Blaine says, as he quietly cleans up the mess.   

The anger is beginning to stir in Kurt again, and he isn’t sure why.  “Really, after that, it’s the least I can do.”  He goes to reach for Blaine, but Blaine pulls away.  

“I’m going to take another shower,” Blaine turns and drops his feet to the floor.  

Kurt tugs at his arm.  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“It’s really fine, Kurt,” Blaine insists, as he heads towards the bathroom.

Kurt curls on his side, feeling frustrated.

***

 

Kurt’s nearly done cooking dinner, and is wondering why Blaine isn’t home yet.  He takes a second from stirring the marinara sauce to check his phone for the hundredth time.  Each time that there isn’t a text, or a phone call, or some kind of communication, Kurt gets a little angrier.  

Normally, Blaine is around -- every single second, he’s around, and Kurt doesn’t mind when he gets an evening to himself.  But tonight was supposed to be their date night.  They scheduled into their calendars, a chance for no school talk, no gossip, and definitely no wedding talk.  It was supposed to be about the two of them reconnecting. Kurt had returned home first, and even decided to prepare one of Blaine’s favorite meals, but the evening wore on, and no Blaine.  

He isn’t going to call Blaine.  He’s not Blaine’s keeper.  He’s not going to be _that guy._  So, instead, he finishes dinner.  And then puts it away.  And then starts the dishes.  He’s so livid that the bottom of the pots have never been so clean.

It’s around nine when Blaine finally walks in, smiling as if nothing is wrong.  

“Hey, Kurt, you’re not going to believe--”

It takes every ounce Kurt can muster not to yell. “Where have you been?”  

Blaine narrows his eyes, confused. “I was at the library studying all afternoon, but then this guy contacted me about doing invitations for the wedding and--”

Kurt cuts him off with a groan.  “We had a date night, tonight.”

“I thought that was _tonight._ And why are you getting so upset with me.”

Kurt throws the dishrag in the water with a large plop.  “You could have called, or texted, or something to say that you were going to be late.”

“We never set a time, Kurt,” Blaine says, his voice rising.  “You said, this evening.  And it’s not like you called me.  You have a phone, too, you know.”

“I shouldn’t have to keep tabs on you,” Kurt argues.  They stare each other down for a long moment.  “If you still want it, your dinner is in the fridge.”  

“Oh,” Blaine’s face falls.  “I already ate.”

“What do you think we were going to do on a date night, Blaine?” Kurt yells.  He doesn’t care that their neighbors can probably hear them at this point.  

“You could have texted me then!”

“I shouldn’t have to!  Date night is supposed to be about us.  But for some reason, it’s not that important to you.”

Blaine folds his arms across his chest.  “And what about the wedding?  Our marriage is supposed to be about us, too, and yet that doesn’t seem to concern you at all.”

Kurt clenches his jaw, but doesn’t say a word.  

“Yeah, we have so much to do, and you don’t want to be a part of any of it.  You won’t even pick a date for the wedding, for god’s sake.  So, spare me the lectures, please.”

“Fine then, Blaine, you win.  I’ll just be the bad guy you need me to be.”

“Kurt…”

“Just leave me alone tonight, okay?”  

***

Kurt’s sitting in the open window, looking out into the bleakness of the night.  It’s unusually quiet for New York, and unusually warm for March.  Usually, he’s freezing in the middle of the night, and wouldn’t dare open the window, but it’s two in the morning, it’s suffocatingly hot in the loft, and the fresh air feels good.  He’s tired, exhausted really, but he can’t sleep.  His mind is racing.  He wishes he could push all his worries, all his fears back, but as hard as he tries, everything is crashing forward.  

Blaine’s in the bed.  He watches Blaine breathe, calmly, but not necessarily peacefully.  There’s a pained look on his face, as if Blaine’s having a bad dream.  Kurt wishes he could make it better.  

Still, Blaine’s gorgeous when he sleeps, those long eyelashes, cute nose, beautiful mouth.  He loves Blaine.  He’s always loved Blaine.  But in the past, he had always believed his future with Blaine was going to be filled with happiness.  This life?  This is not happiness.  

Is this what married life is going to be like, he wonders.  Is this what he has to look forward to for the next seventy years? It’s barely been two months, and he can’t do it -- he can’t commit to this kind of living.  Every day, they’re tearing each other apart, they’re growing distant, they’re so much on a different page that he isn’t sure they’ll ever be on the same one again.  And Kurt feels like he’s trapped, like the loft is a prison that he can’t escape from.  

Blaine is his first love, his best friend, and he can’t imagine his life without Blaine in it.  But this is destroying them.  His heart aches at the thought, but maybe this isn’t the best idea for them anymore.  He can’t continue to live like this; can’t continue to force Blaine to live like this.  He doesn’t know what else to do.  His dad had said it would be hard, but he didn’t think it would be this hard.  He thought some of it would be easy, be fun.  When did that stop?  When did they turn into this awfulness?  

His eyes stay on Blaine for a long time; his gorgeous, wonderful Blaine, and his heart hurts.  He loves this boy.  But he hates this life.  And he isn’t sure how much longer he can keep it up.  

There’s a heaviness in the air.  Thunder in the distance.  It’s going to be a dark and dreary day.  


	3. A House is Not a Home

_A room is still a room_  
_Even when there’s nothing but gloom_  
_But a room is not a house_  
_And a house is not a home_  
_When the two of us are far apart_  
_And one of us has a broken heart_

 

** April 2013 **

Kurt wakes, slowly blinking his eyes open.  The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and he lazily stretches out on Blaine’s full sized bed.  Blaine, unfortunately, is not there with him, and by the sounds of it,  taking a shower.  Kurt could join him, but he’s comfy, cozy, and still a little blissed out from the previous night.  

 _Thank god Blaine’s parents are never home_ , he thinks as all the wonderful things Blaine can do with his mouth float through his mind.  Thank god they get this whole day together before the world needs them back in it.  He’s not done enjoying Blaine to the fullest yet.  

The clock notes it’s quarter after ten.  A shower with Blaine is enticing, but he should probably get up and fix breakfast.  He is pretty hungry, and he could cook something nice for Blaine, waffles with strawberries and whip cream maybe...

He slowly rolls out of bed and heads to Blaine’s dresser. They were in such a hurry last night that Kurt didn’t even stop at his house to pick up a change of clothes.  He and Blaine aren’t the same size, but surely there’s something he can wear.  He rummages through Blaine’s underwear drawer, finds a clean pair of briefs and puts them on, then rummages through next drawer up, when amidst Blaine’s undershirts he stumbles on a small, black box.  

It takes a moment to sink in. It couldn’t be, he thinks as he opens the box.  But there it is, a shiny, silver ring.  Oh god --  Could this actually be for him?  Is Blaine actually going to propose?   _Well, who else is he going to propose to? Sam?_  He laughs excitedly, and not being able to help it, tries the ring on.   _Yes, yes, of course yes_ , his heart screams.  The ring is so lovely on his left hand.  

His head, however, eventually catches up.  They just got back together, a voice nags.  They’ve spent so much time apart lately, so much time not really being on the same page with who they are and what they want--they’re finally figuring all of this all out again.  An engagement would be so fast.  They’re young, they have plenty of time to figure it all out. Shouldn’t they work through their problems first?  Make sure they’re on good footing?

As much as Blaine feels right--has always felt right, they have so much to rediscover about each other.   They’re different people than they were a year ago--and there are so many things.  They should try living together first, and plan for the future, and take their time.  And -- a voice comes from a depth he’s tried hard to bury -- what if he gets hurt again.  He’s not worried about Blaine cheating a second time, that had been a symptom of a much bigger issue, he knows that now.   But that pain, that raw and gut-wrenching pain that took so long to get rid of; the residue of which is still ever-so-slightly there?  He won’t go through that again.   He wants to protect himself this time.  

His heart, however, has other things to say.  His eyes remain fixated on the ring, gorgeous and simple, a perfect symbol of the love they share.  This is something he’s always wanted.  This is something he’s always wanted with Blaine.  This is perfect.  Blaine has always been his Disney prince -- and now he gets his fairy tale ending.  

The shower water shuts off.  Hurriedly, Kurt takes off the ring and places the box back where he found it.  By the time Blaine walks back into the room, a towel hung deliciously low on his hips, the drawer has been slammed shut, and Kurt has just managed to put on one of Blaine’s old undershirts.  It’s a little tight, but it works.  

Blaine gives a suspicious look as he approaches Kurt.  “What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know,” Kurt says, feigning innocence.  “Can’t wear the same outfit twice.  What will the neighbors think?”  

“I think I like you in my clothes,” Blaine says, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist.  Kurt puts his arms around Blaine’s neck, combing his fingers through Blaine’s hair.  “I think I like waking up to you in my bed even more.”

Blaine pulls him in, kissing him deeply, passionately, and god, after all this time, he still takes Kurt’s breath away.  

They break apart and Kurt rests his head against Blaine’s, smiling giddily. “You know I was going to make breakfast, but I think I’m hungry for something else.”

Blaine lets out a tiny, adorable snort.  “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”  Kurt draws in for a more urgent kiss.  

“Ku-urt,” Blaine says playfully as they begin to make out.   “I just had a shower.”

“So?” Kurt says.  A wicked smile crosses his lips as he tugs on Blaine’s towel, causing it to fall to the ground.  

“Yeah -- breakfast can wait.”

Kurt laughs as Blaine pulls him backwards onto the bed.  

Kurt’s heart and head come to a peaceful rest as sweet kisses turn to needy ones.  Yeah -- he could wake up like this for the rest of his life.  Any lingering doubts are pushed far back in his mind.   He loves Blaine so much.  He is definitely _the one._    

 

**April 2014**

Kurt wakes to the sound of Blaine crying.  It’s the middle of the night, and Blaine’s not in the bed with him.  Kurt would have never expected that.  

Blaine hadn’t come home the previous night.  The night they broke up.  Kurt had almost expected him to, swooping in, starting another fight, but Blaine didn’t.  Kurt had been so full of anger that evening that he wanted to enjoy the empty apartment, having the space just to himself for once, the ability to focus on the things he wanted to do without having someone over him all the time.  He could spread out on the couch, on the bed, take as much time as he wanted in the shower.  And it had been quiet--a calming quiet he hadn’t experienced since he first moved to New York.  He wanted to enjoy all of it--but he couldn’t. 

It hadn’t been until the night slowly crept on and he couldn’t sleep that he began to think about what had happened that evening.  He had broken off his engagement, no longer getting married, and as much as he hated to admit it, that felt like a weight had been lifted.  

His anger had remained sizzling at the surface all that evening, but something deeper festered underneath.  Sadness? Regret? He hadn’t been sure what he felt with all the emotions swirling around.  He had also broken up with Blaine, and he hadn’t been sure how he felt about that.  Not entirely.  It was for the better, he had repeated to himself as he tried to get some sleep.  It would all eventually be for the better.

Blaine came home late and wordlessly.  Kurt thought maybe they could talk a little more rationally, but Blaine had glared at him with dark eyes, with an anger that he had never shown Kurt before.  And that had only stirred Kurt’s own anger.  They weren’t having a mature talk about this.  Fine.

Blaine had moved all of his stuff to Rachel’s side of the loft, and is sleeping in Rachel’s old bed.  There’s no longer a partition separating the room, and enough light filtering through the window that Kurt can make out the silhouette of Blaine’s back.  Blaine’s crying is soft, choked back sobs, and tormented enough that Kurt’s instinct is to go over to Blaine, possibly comfort him.  He can’t.  

This is the right thing for them, he thinks for the hundredth time, and sure it hurts now, he’s hurting, too, but if they don’t do this now, someday it’ll be so much worse.  Someday Blaine might even thank him; when they’re older, wiser and more prepared to make these big decisions; and when Blaine realizes that he saved them from a pain much greater than what they’re going through now.  

He stares at Blaine’s back for a long time.  

Eventually, Blaine falls asleep, and Kurt’s still wide awake staring at the ceiling.  He absently plays with his engagement ring, and it occurs to him he still hasn’t taken it off.  For so long, the ring had been a symbol of their future together.  Of everything they meant to each other.  It’s almost become a part of him now.  He has to give it up.  For this to be really done, he has to give it back.

With a deep breath, he climbs out of bed, silently, not wanting to wake Blaine.  He comes to the side of the bed, hovering over Blaine, watching him for a moment.  It’s dark, but he can still make out Blaine’s tear streaked cheeks, his scrunched up face, his pained expression.  

He plays with the ring.  He hates that the fact that Blaine is taking it so hard -- why do these things have to be so hard?  And it would be so easy, he considers, to join him, to lay beside him, and wrap him up in his arms.  To tell him everything is going to be okay.  He can’t mislead Blaine, though, he can’t.  

He plays with the ring.  Maybe they could work something out.  Maybe they could talk in the morning, about not getting married, about maybe not living together even, but how is that fair to either of them?  And they’d run the risk of falling into the same trap.  

He plays with the ring.  It’s time to let go.  It’s time.  But, if he takes it off, then he’s admitting that Blaine isn’t his one.  

He rips off the ring, like tearing off an old Band-Aid, and crashes it to the night stand.   Then hurriedly gets back into his own bed.  It’s done. And it’s for the better.  

He turns on his side so not to face Blaine any longer.  

The next morning, Kurt wakes to find Blaine gone from the loft. The bed’s made and cleared, looking as though no one had slept in it.  The ring is gone, too, and in its place a simple note -- letting Kurt know that Blaine will be in a hotel until he finds a new place.  He’ll be back for his things.  And he doesn’t want Kurt to contact him.  

A wave of sadness crashes over his heart. He does his best to ignore it.  

 

***

 

There are only two people he tells that he’s broken off his engagement.  He’d have preferred not to mention it to anyone; it is, after all, no one’s business.  And he’s perfectly fine, thank you very much.  But there are two conversations he can’t get around.  

 

The first is with his dad.  

He doesn’t mean to bring it up, but it’s his dad, and Burt would have known something’s up in a heartbeat.  The entire story comes tumbling out over the course of the twenty minute phone call, Kurt rehashing everything; from having a hard time living together, to calling off the engagement, to all the fights, to officially breaking up.  His dad listens carefully, acknowledging each point Kurt makes. And when he finishes, it a relief.  All the fears, all of the doubts, all of the thoughts he’s held onto for the past few months are finally said out loud.  It’s cathartic.

Burt is quiet.  He’s usually quiet when they talk, but Kurt can just feel the somberness radiating through the phone.  

“How’s Blaine taking it?” Burt finally says.  

Annoyance rises to the surface.  Out of all the ways his dad could have responded _that_ is what he leads with.  

“He’s fine.”

There’s a long pause, and he can just see his dad considering.  

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Burt asks.  His dad isn’t trying to be condescending, but it reminds him of when he was six, and his dad questioned whether or not he really wanted that Maria bonnet.  

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Well, okay buddy,” Burt says.  “I’m here for whatever you need.”

It sounds like disappointment.  

 

The second conversation happens out of necessity.  

Kurt’s standing in Elliott’s kitchen, anxiously rocking on the balls of his feat.  “There’s something I need to ask you.  The loft lease is up at the end of the month, and I need a place to stay.”

Elliott throws his head back with a laugh.  “Kurt, you know I love you and Blaine, but I don’t know if I could handle that.”

“No,” he nervously rubs his hands together.  “It’s just, um, me.”  

Elliott’s eyes immediately flitter down to Kurt’s left hand, and the absence of a ring.  “Oh…you mean--”

“It’ll just be for the summer,” Kurt cuts in quickly.

Elliott rubs his neck, not sure what to say.  “Do you want to talk about it?  Breaking off your engagement, man.  That’s huge.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Kurt says, staring at the floor intently.  “I was engaged.  Now I’m not.  It’s time to move on.”

Elliott raises his eyebrows, not convinced.  “Well, whatever you need to do.  I’m here for you.  You can stay here this summer until you find a place.”

Kurt’s glad Elliott doesn’t push the subject.  He doesn’t want to dwell on any of it.  He wants to move forward with his life.  But still, Elliott sounds a little too close to his dad for comfort.  

 

***

 

The next week is hard.    

He had expected Blaine to be in his space still.  To his surprise, Blaine’s not.  In fact, he never sees Blaine -- a point Blaine seems to be making purposefully.  There are signs he’s been in the loft while Kurt’s away; little things such as missing toiletries, shoes, kitchen stuff.  And then the boxes appear, out of nowhere it seems.  Every time he comes back to the loft, there’s another box, and more stuff packed away.  It’s like a ghost is emptying his home.  It’s a strange feeling.  

But for whatever Blaine’s doing during the day, he’s nowhere to be found at night, and for that, Kurt is grateful.  He can spread out now, put all his homework along the coffee table without having to bump into Blaine’s sheet music.  He can make a mess in the bathroom with all his face creams and hair products and leave it until the next morning to take care of it.  He can leave his cell phone plugged in all night and not have Blaine nag him about how it’ll wear out the battery. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt such freedom.  It’s nice, and relaxing, and for the first time in months, he feels like he can breathe again.  

NYADA, however, proves to be a different animal all together.  Kurt fooled himself thinking things would go on just as they had before.  This is a school that loves its drama.  The missing ring speaks for itself, and by Monday afternoon, the rumors are flying.

What Blaine had told people, he didn’t know.  Blaine keeps to himself in the classes they have together, careful to sit on opposite sides of the room, and when Kurt tries to make eye contact, all he receives are pointed glares.  

When Kurt gets to school Tuesday, there’s a large group of girls surrounding Blaine.  They’re chattering a mile a minute, in questioning and demanding tones.  Blaine isn’t talking much himself, but when he passes by, they all quiet down, and stare at him as if he’s the villain in whatever version of the story they’ve concocted in their heads.  It infuriates Kurt more than it should.  When did Blaine get that many friends at this school?  Why does he always have to be painted as the bad guy?  And can’t they be civil about this -- especially if they have to share this common space for the next few years.   _Can’t they_?  

Kurt, chin up, drives past them in a hurry, ignoring them being his best option at the moment.  Still, it doesn’t stop him from overhearing some of the things being said.  

“So, first it was that Adam guy last year,” he hears some girl from his music history class talking to a friend of hers.  He stops just out of sight.  “And now this fiance that he pulled from nowhere.  Like, he ditched both of them just like that.  And his fiance seems so sweet, too.  It’s awful how he treated both of them.”

“Use ‘um and lose ‘um,” her friend says.  “He may be an ice queen, but he’s still a guy.”

It’s like he’s been slapped across the face.  His first instinct is to walk right over and give him a piece of his mind.  They don’t know him, they don’t know Blaine, and they don’t know their story, and how _dare_ they assume anything.  He’s so livid he’s frozen in his spot, as a dozen different scenarios of telling them off race through his head.  

But he takes a deep breath and collects himself.  Fuck them.  This isn’t the first time in his life that people have misunderstood him, ignored the real situation, and dismissed his feelings. They’re shallow and petty anyway, tomorrow they’ll be gossiping about a girl who got a new nose job, or a guy who failed a big audition.  What room do they have to judge?  Still, no matter how old he gets, no matter how used to this he is, it stings.  

At least by Wednesday the gossip dies down.  Some student slept with a professor and the news thankfully sweeps his broken engagement into the ‘old news’ column.  The week still crawls on, though.  Class, work, avoiding Blaine, coming home to more boxes, rinse, repeat.

By the time the weekend hits, he decides to indulge in another round of Golden Girls.  The world is so much warmer in fictional Florida.  

 

***

 

When he shows up for this first class on Monday, he hears whispers of Blaine’s name -- only this time his name doesn’t seem to be attached.  His classmates, however, are still avoiding him.  Blaine’s nowhere to be seen either, not in their first two classes.  And now that Kurt thinks of it, he had barely left the loft that weekend, and Blaine hadn’t shown up at all.

He finds out that afternoon in combat class.  

He’s met by a classmate, Chad, who’s been notorious for staring at his ass even before he and Blaine broke up, and has spent the better part of the previous week trying to get his attention.  Kurt would rather deal with petty gossipers.  

“You must be happy now that _Blan_ derson is gone,” Chad says with a cocky grin.

Kurt rolls his eyes as he throws his bag over to the wall.  “He’s not gone.”  

“You’re kidding right?” Chad’s eyes are wide with delight.  “I thought you’d be the first to know?”

Kurt eyes him suspiciously as he picks up one of the fake swords they’ve been using in class.  He twirls it in his hand, liking the barrier it’s placing between him and Chad.  He shouldn’t take the bait but he does.  “What are you even talking about.”  

Chad throws his head back with a laugh.  “Oh, god, it was amazing.  He had a complete and total breakdown in front of Carmen Tibideaux.  Completely sobbed his way through some final or something, and she kicked him out of the school.  It’s about time -- he was so not NYADA material.  I can see why you left that hot mess behind.  I mean why date a girl when you what you’re looking for is a man?”  Chad then makes an obscene thrust of his hips.  “What do you say, Hummel, want to experience what it’s like to be with a real man?”

This guy is intolerable, sure.  Normally he’d just ignore it, but Blaine’s been kicked out of school, and he doesn’t have the full details.  He doesn’t know if Blaine’s okay.  And how can he think when Chad and everyone else won’t give him respect or even space.  It pushes Kurt to finally break.  

“I am _done_ with this,” he yells, enough so that he has the entire room’s attention.  “Listen up, because I am only going to say this once.  I have _had_ it with you and everyone else gossiping about me.  And about Blaine.  You don’t know the whole story. You probably never will.  And don’t I even think you care. So quit trying to get into my business.  Quit staring at me like a piece of meat, that’s _so_ not going to happen.  And quit the jabs at Blaine, because he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.  And if I hear anything out of you, or any of you, I will challenge you to a Midnight Madness or I will challenge you to a fight right here, and you all know how that turns out.  So. Fuck. Off.”  

He takes another swing of the fake sword to punctuate his point, and Chad raises his hand, backing away while mumbling something about Kurt being a drama queen.  He doesn’t care, as long as it gets them to leave him alone.  

Thankfully, his outburst seems to work.  No one comes near him the rest of the day.

 

***

 

Immediately after Kurt leaves class, he heads to a secluded part of the building and takes out his phone, thumbing quickly to Blaine’s number.  He should call.  He can’t believe Blaine has been kicked out, he just can’t.  He never wanted this to happen, never wanted to hurt Blaine so badly, never wanted him to fail.  He knows Blaine so well, knows his potential, knows that the break up must have hurt him more deeply than he can express.  And to be kicked out of school -- by Carmen Tibideaux herself!  He should call--  

And say what?

Offer comfort?  Apologize?  He doesn’t know what to do here.  Breaking off the engagement was the right thing to do.  Kurt wants so badly to comfort him, but he can’t mislead him.  

Besides, Kurt reasons, Blaine has made no effort to come to him about anything.  They haven’t talked in a week.  When Blaine’s ready to come to him again, he will.  No need to push him into it.  

His thumb hovers over the number, toys with it.  Then shoves the phone in his pocket before he hits call.  

 

***

 

He skips his last class of the day, thinking maybe he’ll catch Blaine at the loft but upon returning, he finds that he’s too late.  Blaine’s stuff is gone.  The boxes, clothes, knickknacks, and even the piano are missing.  And yet, the loft looks mostly untouched, as if Blaine had never been there to begin with.  The only sign that he had been there at all were the photos of the two of them left on Kurt’s dresser.  

Kurt picks up one of the photos, the one from Junior Prom.  It had been one of the best moments of his life; this perfect, magical, wonderful moment.  It feels like a dream -- a hazy memory that he once saw in a movie, not his own life.  He doesn’t really recognize the two boys in it anymore -- smiling giddily at each other, so in love.  

He misses Blaine.  

As begrudging as he is to admit it, there’s a deep ache there that he finds hard to ignore.  They haven’t been this long without talking to each other since the first time they broke up.  And, oh, how that was agony then.  Things are better now though.  Or they will be better. Their story shouldn’t end this way--once the perfect fairy tale romance now faded into nothing.  They deserve an ending, if nothing else.  But real life is not a story.  He still feels he made the right choice, and sometimes there are things in real life that remain unresolved.

He collects all the framed photos, the last pieces of their relationship, and sticks them in an old shoe box.  He should throw them out, be done with it, move on.  But he can’t.  Instead, he puts it in his closet, and buries it with a pile of clothes.  

Then, logs onto Facebook.  If he’s going to cleanse his life, he might as do it fully. He hasn’t touched any social media in over a week, not eager to hear everyone else’s opinion on his life.  And as expected there are dozens of notifications waiting for him.  He opens his messages, and catching his eye immediately is a note from Blaine.  He quickly clicks on it -- but upon doing so finds that it’s from the previous week.  A small, little thing from Blaine along with a link.  

 

_Sorry, running late tonight.  But check out this place for the wedding I found.  Isn’t it gorgeous?_

 

Not helping himself, Kurt clicks on the link.  The place is gorgeous alright, wide open spaces, tall windows, old-fashioned wooden furniture.  Kurt understands immediately why Blaine picked it.  It had reminded him of Dalton.  Kurt tries very hard not to think of that day, of either of those days.  He clicks out of the link.  

That’s the problem with the two of them, he thinks as he stares at Blaine’s icon -- a picture of the two of them cuddled together the previous summer.  They were always so stuck in the past, trying to relive their greatest moments and could never really move forward.  Maybe it is better that he doesn’t contact Blaine.  

He hesitates a little more then clicks on Blaine’s profile.  He half expects to be blocked, but what he finds instead surprises him.  Blaine’s deactivated his account entirely.  Maybe this is the universe telling him it’s time to move on.

He opens up his activity log -- time to cut out the past if he wants to focus on the future.  But after five minutes of looking at all the photos, all the shared conversations, all the likes.  It’s seemingly impossible.  The knot is too hard to untangle, and suddenly he understands Blaine completely.  Better to start new and fresh.

He opens a brand new account with a brand new email, snaps a selfie of himself, and uses it it as a placeholder for an avatar.  But as he looks at his new, empty space that looks sad as it awaits things to fill it up, he shuts his computer off.  Kurt decides to take a break from social media for a while.  He could use the space summer vacation offers to refocus on the things that matter, like getting his career in order, and figuring out what he should do with his life now that it’s headed in a completely new direction.

But the questions seem harder than his brain wants to handle.  He climbs into bed, let’s Candy Crush take over for a good twenty minutes or so, and falls asleep.

 

***

 

Kurt gets through the rest of April mostly on autopilot.  Finals are upon him, and he throws most of his effort into passing them.  Expressing his emotions through music and performance seems easier than dealing with them outright.  He passes just fine.  Still, there’s something emptier about walking the halls of NYADA.  He tries not let it nag at him.  He tries not to think of Blaine.

Rachel’s show bombs.  He tries to call her but when her dads come to take her stuff from the loft, they inform him that she’s gone into hiding for a while.  He wishes he could be there for her.  He moreso wishes she could be there for him.  And when her bed’s gone, and the corner is just an empty space, he feels that tug of loneliness.  He tries, again, not to think of Blaine.

Mercedes, on tour, texts him, filling him in on her adventures around the country.  He doesn’t mention the broken engagement -- she’s so happy with life and ready to gossip about all the drama with Brittany and Santana that he doesn’t want to bring her down.  And when they’re done for the night, his first instinct is to share her stories.  But there’s no one there to tell.  And he tries really hard not to think of Blaine.  

 

As he’s cleaning the last of the loft, he finds an old shirt crammed deep under the bed.  It’s his old OSU shirt.  It’s _Blaine’s_ old OSU shirt that Kurt used to wear to bed when it was too hot for his designer pajamas.  He holds it close to his heart -- he can keep this one small thing, can’t he?  Blaine gave it to him a long, long time ago.  It’s practically his now.

He sits on the empty floor and rocks and for the first time time willingly lets himself think of Blaine.  He’s spent so much mental energy trying not to these days that he’s allowing himself this one moment.  And it hurts more than he thinks it should.  

He wonders what Blaine is up to, what he’s doing.  He doesn’t even know where Blaine is -- if he’s back at home or…somewhere new entirely.  Does Blaine ever think of him? Does Blaine miss him, too?  Does Blaine hate him?  Best not to go down that line of thought.  

He hopes Blaine is okay, wherever he is.

The shirt still smells of Blaine, faintly, it still lingers even if Blaine hadn’t worn it in ages.  Blaine held him so many times while he wore that shirt, and kissed him, and given him promises of forever. He thinks of Blaine and tries not to cry, even if tears are rolling down his cheek.  They had a good run, better than so many others.  But not all love stories have happy endings.   Soon the shirt will smell like an old shirt, and memories will fade to just that.  He can think of Blaine and be grateful for what they had, even if it’s time to close the book now.    

It’s a little later, when he’s tucking the shirt into the shoebox with all the old photos that he realizes he and Blaine never had a proper goodbye.  It’s probably for the better, he thinks.  At least there’s one promise he didn’t break.  

A few days later, with the help of his dad and Elliott, the loft is empty. Still, there’s a heaviness to the air -- as if the all ghosts still hang there.   He’s admittedly sad -- this was the place where he and Rachel were going to make their dreams come true.  But dreams aren’t perfect.   _Dreams come true, not free_.  A line from Sondheim musical? No, just an old, cheesy TV show.  So he didn’t make it big while he was here.  That’s fine.  He has a whole, huge life ahead of him.  Plenty to look forward to.

He takes a deep breath as he closes the door.   There were good memories in there, but too many bad ones. And for the first time in a long time he feels optimistic about his future.  He locks the door and doesn’t look back, literally leaving his past behind him.  

 


	4. Some People

_Some people can get a thrill_  
_Knitting sweaters and sitting still_  
_That’s okay for some people_  
_Who don’t know they’re alive_

 

**May 2012**

Kurt’s sitting in a lounge chair on the edge of Santana’s pool.  Rachel’s in the chair to his left, lying all the way back trying to get a tan.  Mercedes is on his right, flipping through her phone.  It’s two weeks before graduation, and Santana’s throwing an end of the year New Directions, blow-out party (as the flyer stated).  And so far, he has to admit, he’s a little bored.  

He’s attempting to read a fashion magazine but his attention is drawn to the pool where Blaine is splashing around with the other New Direction kids.  He allows himself to linger; watching the shift in his muscles, the water trickling down his bare chest, the fact that when Blaine stands in the shallow end his bathing suit rides a little low and Kurt knows exactly what’s beneath that line.  These parties are supposed to be cherished says every teen movie ever.  When will they ever be together like this again?  But Kurt doesn’t care so much about that.  He’d rather get Blaine alone so he can touch that bare skin.  

Mercedes shakes his arm, ripping him from his thoughts.  At first, he thinks she’s going to scold or tease him for staring at Blaine, but he’s perfectly allowed to gaze at his boyfriend thank-you-very-much.  Mercedes, however, is looking excitedly at her phone.  

“You guys, what are you doing next weekend?” She turns her phone to show them.

“Broadway in Chicago,” Kurt reads.

“It’s a concert.  A benefit for...I don’t know something charitable. Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth are headlining! You guys, we have to go!”

“Oh, we _have_ to,” Rachel says, sitting up straight.  “The guys are doing some zombie killing video game tournament at Artie’s house.  Finn said I wasn’t allowed to come because last time I needed help with the controllers and got so frustrated I threw one at the TV.  So this would be a perfect weekend for some diva time in Chicago.  I’ll tell Tina.”

“Fantastic,” Kurt says, feeling giddy.  “I think I know already what I want to wear.  I’ll also let Blaine know.”

The moment Kurt mentions Blaine’s name the girls exchange looks.

“What?” Kurt asks, not sure what would deflate the excitement of seeing the stars of Wicked reunited on stage live.  

“I think what Rachel meant was that it’d be our last hurrah together, just us girls...and you,” Mercedes says.  

“Oh, c’mon,” Kurt says.  “Blaine’s just as much a diva as I am, and he loves Wicked.  And Rachel, don’t tell me you wouldn’t drag Finn along if you could.”

Rachel gives him a slightly off-put look.  “Finn and I may be in the throws of our impending marriage, but we do sometimes have a little time apart.”

“If the two of you could handle time apart you wouldn’t be getting married so young,” Kurt snaps.  It’s a bit of a low dig at Rachel, but Kurt doesn’t care.

“Oh!” Rachel throws her hands up.  “You are one to talk.  Don’t tell me you and Blaine don’t have your _entire_ future planned already.  Why don’t you just skip to the point where you’re eighty and move into a retirement home.”

“Guys, guys,” Mercedes waves her hands to calm them both down.  “Let’s not get into this fight again.  Kurt, look, we love Blaine.  You know we love Blaine.  But, sometimes the two of you are so joined at the hip, it’s almost like you're one person, especially lately.”

“We’re going to be apart for an entire year,” Kurt says defensively.  “And Blaine’s feeling insecure about it, and I just want to spend as much time with him as I can.  And if it’s really that big a deal, you guys have your girls’ night and Blaine and I will find something else to do.”

Rachel rolls her eyes, but Mercedes softens to him.  

“It’s fine, really,” Mercedes says.  “Blaine can come, it’s really no big deal.”

The subject of Blaine is dropped as Mercedes reads the list of other Broadway stars who will be sharing the stage with the Wicked stars.  The three of them chat about logistics some, but the conversation winds down quickly.  It’s not long before Mercedes is asked to join a card game with Sam, Tina, and Mike, while Finn practically drags Rachel into the pool with him.  Kurt leans back in the chair and puts his sunglasses over his eyes, thinking he could get in a quick nap.

No sooner is he starting to drift off when a body comes to share his chair.  He doesn’t need to open his eyes to figure out who it is.  He scooches over slightly and puts an arm around Blaine’s shoulder, cuddling him close.  He knows the feel of Blaine’s body close to his as if he was a perfect puzzle piece sliding into place.  

“You’re getting me all wet, you know,” Kurt says, but the water from Blaine’s skin is cool and welcome, and Blaine knows he’s only teasing.  

“Maybe I just want you out of this shirt,” Blaine whispers into his ear.  

Blaine slides a hand underneath the hem of Kurt’s shirt, but Kurt knows it’s an idle threat, that Blaine wouldn’t do that without permission.  Instead, Blaine goes for the spot on Kurt’s torso that he knows is ticklish and unleashes an attack.  Kurt breaks into laughter easily.

After a moment or two, Blaine settles into him again, resting his head on Kurt’s shoulder, and a hand on Kurt’s stomach, and lazily begins tracing circles around Kurt’s belly button.  Still, Blaine’s touch feels electric on Kurt’s skin.  God, why did they make that stupid PDA pact.  If Kurt hadn’t been so perfectly comfortable he’d drag Blaine off right then to a more private spot.  

Out in the pool, Finn and Rachel are already full on making out.  No one is watching them, all busy in their little groups.  No one cares because Finn and Rachel have no boundaries.  They don’t care.  Kurt raises his sunglasses and looks into Blaine’s eyes.  Blaine’s gorgeous, honey-colored eyes, that make him feel safe and cared for and would anyone really care if they kissed?  He looks down to Blaine’s lips, and Blaine knows what he’s thinking.  They could possibly try, just this once.  

But then Puck walks by and Blaine pulls back.  No, they can’t, which annoys Kurt to no end.  It’s not like when they’re out in public, where they have to be careful for their own safety.  It’s the fact that they’d never hear the end of it from their friends.  And he doesn’t want to turn into the next Finn and Rachel.

“So, Artie invited me to some zombie video game marathon thing,” Blaine says, attempting to be casual.  

“Do you want to go?”

“It might be fun.  You?”

There’s a loose curl on Blaine’s forehead that Kurt begins to play with.  “Rachel, Mercedes and I are going to go to Chicago that weekend.  A whole bunch of Broadway stars are doing a benefit up there.”

“Oh, that sounds fun,” Blaine says, attempting not to sound hopeful.

“You’re welcome to come,” Kurt says, though there’s hesitance in his voice.  He drops his hand to Blaine’s shoulder.

Blaine looks concerned.  “Do you not want me to?”

“Of course I do,” Kurt says.  He looks out to Rachel and Finn again, they’re practically doing it in the pool now. It’s gross.  But at least they get to be open. “Just, Mercedes and Rachel were giving me a hard time about how much time we spend together.”

Blaine frowns.  “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” Kurt says with confidence, which soothes Blaine’s worries easily. At the end of the day, Blaine is who he wants at his side.  Always.  “No, I’ll tell them you’re coming.  I mean, unless you rather hunt zombies or whatever.”

“I’d rather be with you.”  That flirtatious grin is back on Blaine’s lips, causing Kurt’s cheeks to flush.  Blaine stares at him hard, and at first, Kurt thinks he’s going to dare for a kiss.  But he doesn’t.  Not exactly.  Blaine begins to line his neck with kisses, slowly going downward and stopping to suck a kiss on Kurt’s collarbone.  

“Wooo! Hummel you get it boy,” Santana’s catcall drives them apart.  Both boys turn a deep shade of red.  

He doesn’t know what the future has for them, but he knows it’ll be easier.  He rests his head against Blaine’s, happy for any kind of contact.  They’ll be together in the future, open and happy, even if it’s in that retirement home.  It’ll all be perfect.  

 

**May 2014**

Kurt’s in the kitchen, pulling the last dozen of his chocolate and coconut macarons out of the oven when Elliott arrives home.  It’s his fourth batch, and despite his best efforts, they look brown and crispy and not at all like the website he’s gotten the recipe from.  Disgruntled, he throws the tray on the stove and turns off the oven.

“So the cooking class is going well I see?” Elliott leans against the pillar in the kitchen, his arms folded over his chest.  

“Yeah,” Kurt replies, sarcasm thick in his voice as he pokes a cookie with a spatula.  “The website claimed a self-taught course for beginners.  A week in, and I still haven’t managed a decent gourmet baked good.  It’s making me rethink everything I ever thought about myself as an educated baker.”

Elliott lets out a laugh as he picks up one of the macarons to inspect it.  “Well, first of all, anything that has macarons as the third lesson is not a beginner’s course.  Secondly, a week in is hardly enough time for you to learn the skill.  And thirdly, when was it ever your dream to be an expert at baking?” He tosses the cookie onto the cooling rack.  

Kurt sits in one of the kitchen chairs, slumping low.  “Honestly, it wasn’t.  I just thought it’d be something to do this summer.  Something fun.  But right now it just feels like work.”  

Elliott shuffles his feet, opens his mouth to speak but says nothing, tilting his head instead.

Kurt brushes some crumbs into a pile.  “Look, don’t worry about the mess.  I’ll get it cleaned up so we can cook some dinner.”

True, the kitchen did look like a tornado had gone through it, pans and pots and cooking supplies covering every inch of the kitchen, splatters of dough and chocolate on some of the cupboards, crushed coconut lining the floor.  Elliott had come home to worse, but Kurt had been a model roommate, and after every cooking exercise, the kitchen had never looked better.

He gives Kurt a concerned look.  “Don’t worry about it.  Actually, I thought maybe we could go out tonight and just grab a cheeseburger or something.  There’s this new indie band, Black Metal Daisy, that’s playing at the bar a block from here.  They’ve got the gig all weekend, and I thought maybe we should go.”  

“And be reminded of another great failure of mine?  No thank you. Pass,” Kurt says, holding himself tight.

“Pamela Lansbury and One Three Hill weren’t failures, Kurt,” Elliott insists.

“Well, they weren’t exactly making millions, let alone getting gigs.”

Elliott refrains from rolling his eyes.  “Kurt, I don’t remember it being your dream to be a full fledged rock star either.  You created a cover band, and it was fun, we all had a lot of fun.”

“Except all the times Rachel and Santana fought over who was singing lead that day.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that.  But, c’mon.  You can’t beat yourself up every time something you consider a hobby doesn’t work out perfectly.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow at him, even if he knows Elliott’s speaking the truth.  It doesn’t help his mood.  “Fine.  Let’s just get dinner and continue with our Tracey-Hepburn marathon.  Night six out of nine.   _Adam’s Rib_.  This time they’re lawyers on opposing sides of the same case.”

“Oh, god, Kurt,” Elliott let’s out a groan.  “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your taste for the classics, but if you really still want to watch a movie tonight, can it at least be in color?”

“What about--”

“No musicals.”

“Okay, so--”

“I’m not watching _The Princess Bride_ again.”

“Well, then--”

“I don’t have the energy to watch anything with subtitles.   Why don’t we just try something with explosions or distracting CGI battles or something.  Isn’t there a new superhero movie that just came out?”

“No, no superheroes.  Whenever we couldn’t decide on something to watch, Blaine always picked a Marvel movie.  And while I get the appeal of Chris Hemsworth’s muscles and Robert Downey Jr’s charm, maybe some of us just prefer the refined intellectualism of a Mark Ruffalo rom-com, okay?”

“Didn’t he play the Hulk?”

“That’s not the point.”

 

***

 

He’s drenched by the time he gets to the restaurant.  The rain had made the trains suffocatingly cramped, and he ended up squeezed between a woman wearing too much perfume and a guy who sneezed on him every minute or so.   Three blocks before his stop, he had decided to face the rain and walk, only to realize he left his umbrella on the seat as the train pulled away.  

It’s Thursday evening, which is still busy in New York City.  Unfortunately, it’s only he and Aryella on wait staff as someone didn’t show up for their shift and someone else can’t make it in for a few hours.  He gives a frustrated groan when he finds out, especially since Aryella is a bigger diva than he is, and one on one is hard to handle.  Aryella, however, thinks of them as best friends, and kisses his cheeks when he arrives, telling him quickly that she’s got a place in the chorus of some new Broadway show, which is an annoying though since Kurt knows first hand that she can’t stay on key.  

Their boss, Gunther, is upset because the guy who didn’t show up is the only one who can sing a ‘real male part’ as he puts it, and is extra grumpy because they’re forced to do only female related songs.  Meanwhile, the cooks are stoned, Kurt manages to break at least two plates, and a large group of teenagers decide not to tip.

It’s not Kurt’s best day.

But all of that was tolerable until _she_ came in.  

Of all the restaurants in all the city, why did she have to come into his?

June Dolloway enters the restaurant looking too gaudy to be there, and disgusted that she even stepped foot in the place.  She has a few companions with her, one of whom is assuring her that the food is great.  Kurt hopes to god that she finds the place too beneath her and storms back out, but her companions seem to talk her into it.  She’s seated, unfortunately, in Kurt’s section, but Kurt’s on that quickly, and manages to bribe Aryella to take the table, promising that he’d give her half his tip money.  

He manages to mostly avoid her, until he’s delivering food to the table next to hers and she promptly pulls on his apron to get his attention.

“I thought that was you, Kurt Hummel,” she says with a scowl on her face.

“June, hi,” Kurt says, trying to be as friendly as possible.  He can’t quite manage.  

“It’s Mrs. Dolloway to you.”

“Mrs. Dolloway,” Kurt repeats through gritted teeth.  

“I want you to give a message to your friend Blaine Anderson,” June says, flicking her napkin at him as she unfolds it to set it in her lap.  

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that for you,” he says, hoping she doesn’t pry.

“Oh, I think you will, you see--” she stops abruptly when she notices the ring missing on his finger.  “Oh!” a wicked grin slowly crosses her face.  She gets it.  He doesn’t have to say a damn word, but she gets it and is delighted.  “Nevermind,” she says, dismissing him with a flick of her wrist.

As he leaves, he hears her lean in and whisper something to her companions, all of whom laugh together.  Kurt fights to say every angry thing he’s ever thought about her.  Instead, he storms right out of the restaurant and back into the rain.

 

***

 

“That smug bitch,” Kurt says, pacing back and forth in the living room as Elliott watches from the couch.  He slowly sips on a beer as he tries to keep up with Kurt’s story.  Ranting isn’t going to do anything, and he knows Elliott has plans for that evening, but he’d really like to let out his frustrations.  “She’s always been awful to me.  Never liked me.  The way she got a kick out of the fact that Blaine and I aren’t engaged anymore?  You know, she always wanted him to dump me.  That’s what Blaine eventually told me.  She thought I was holding him back from his career aspirations--an amateurish weight on his shoulders.  God, and she even had the gall to critique my singing as she left.   You know, I knew she was only pretending to be nice when Blaine showed her up at his concert--”

“Um, Kurt,” Elliott interjects carefully.  “You do remember you and Blaine broke up right?  So I really don’t think she’s your problem anymore.”

Kurt stops in his tracks, and stares at him blankly for a moment.  Oh, right.  The heaviness and exhaustion of the day take him over, so he takes a seat next Elliott and rests his head on Elliott’s shoulder.  It’s a little awkward, but Elliott pats him on the head lightly.  

“There are very few people who get that much under my skin, but she was one of them,” Kurt says.

“Apparently.”

“I don’t know,” Kurt grabs one of the throw pillows and hugs it.  “She’s still a benefactor to NYADA, but I doubt I’ll really have to deal with her, she only shows up once a year for some congratulatory benefit dinner.”

“See,” Elliott says, trying to be optimistic.  “And most likely she’ll never set foot in the restaurant again.”

“Meanwhile, Gunther nearly fired me for leaving. I came right back in, but I think he’s mad about Rachel and Santana quitting on him.  I’ve been only getting a dozen hours or so a week anyway.  Maybe I should just quit and save my sanity.”

“I’m sorry, man.”  

A beat of silence passes as Kurt let’s out a heavy sigh.

“Wanna go shopping with me tomorrow?  Drowning my sorrows in some great sales might make me feel better.”

Elliott seems unsure.  “Dude, I’m happy to ease your sorrows, but I need to be in the East Village around 3. Black Metal Daisy asked me to jam with them tomorrow and--”

Kurt sits up straight, and idea suddenly popping into his head.  “Maybe this whole restaurant fiasco is a blessing in disguise.  I think I know what might be more beneficial to me this summer.”

Elliott lets out a quick sigh, then raises an eyebrow, curious.

 

***

The Vogue.com office is buzzing, even more so than NYADA at finals.  It’s been six months since Kurt has last been in the building, a year since his internship had ended, and while the rooms are the same, the faces in it have changed.  He feels slightly out of place, much like he did when he first arrived a few years ago, lost in a world that moves on around him, not noticing that he’s there.  

Isabelle’s finishing a meeting, so he sits in her waiting room, nervously tapping his foot.  He doesn’t know how this will pan out.  He isn’t sure how he wants it to pan out.  

There’s a young girl, younger than him, though that doesn't seem possible, sitting at the the desk that once was his, frantically answering phones and typing at the same time.  People float in and out of the office, and she barely notices them as they leave memos and messages for Isabelle.  It’s strange.  This place used to be another home.  Now it belongs to someone else.  Now it’s just another waiting room to him.  

Isabelle finally emerges from her meeting.  She’s tired, but that doesn’t stop her from greeting him with a warm smile, and ushers him into her office.  

“Well, if it isn’t the elusive Kurt Hummel,” she says as she sits behind her desk.  She offers him a bottle of sparkling water from the mini-fridge in the corner of the office, but Kurt declines, taking a seat across from her.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?  Did you and your beaux finally pick a date, and you’ve come to tell me all the details of the most likely fabulous wedding plans?”

“Oh, um, no,” Kurt says, cheeks flushing.  He holds up his left hand a tad sheepishly and looks down to his lap.  “No, um, that sad saga has ended.   And I’m fine, it was my decision.  But, no, that’s not why I’m here.”  

“Oh, honey” she says, deflating a little.  She starts to reach out to him, then decides not, taking a sip of her water instead, as the awkward moment lingers uncomfortably.  “Well, then, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I was wondering if I could, possibly, get some kind of job here,” he says, plastering on his best smile.  “A paying one, not an internship.  The restaurant I was working at can’t really give me hours right now, and I’m not taking summer classes so my availability is wide open.  And, truthfully, I’m looking for something to do.”

Isabelle’s face falls as she leans back in her chair.  “Kurt, I love you, you know that.  But I really hate to think of Vogue.com as something you ‘do’ while you wait for other things.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant,” Kurt stammers.

“I know,” Isabelle says.  Her friendly demeanor is back putting Kurt at ease.  “Let me be straight with you.  I don’t have any part time work for you.  Even the internships are full, Jenny and Jack are incredibly promising even if they don’t quite have your talent.  As much as I would love to have you back on my staff, I don’t have a position for you.  However, if you are serious about getting into fashion, and you know that I think you would flourish in this field, we’re expanding and Anna has some major projects developing in Los Angeles and Miami.  Put some hard work there and you’re on your way to being a full time employee -- with the possibility of going to Paris and Italy, even.”

“Oh!” Kurt’s astonished at the prospect.  And for a moment, he can see himself taking this path, eventually getting his own clothing line, and seeing models wearing his clothes in Paris and Milan and trending on the world’s big fashion stage.  But then he thinks about what he’d be giving up, NYADA, his theater aspirations, music.  It’s such a big decision, and he just doesn’t know.  “But there’s nothing in New York?” he asks hopefully.

Frowning, Isabelle shakes her head.  “I wish there was.”  

“Well, thank you.  Thank you so much for the opportunity,” Kurt says.  He can’t quite look her in the eye.  “But, I don’t think I’m ready yet to give up on my dream of NYADA.”  

“I do understand,” she replies, “even if it’s not what I want to hear.” She comes around from behind the desk, and leans down to give him a hug.  He accepts graciously.  “The door is always open.  If you ever change your mind, we’ll have a spot waiting for you.”

“I’m always going to think of you as my fairy godmother,” he says, leaning into her a little.  

“If I could give you one piece of advice, though.”

“Oh?”

“New York often can seem like the center of the world.  It really is fabulous, and by far my own favorite place to be.  But often times, when people settle here, we get content.  We get caught up in our routines, and tell ourselves, well, we’re here in New York, where else better is there to be?  Don’t be afraid to fly outside your comfort zone from time to time. You may be surprised what you find, even in unlikely places.”

He takes a moment to consider, not sure if she’s talking directly about New York City, or alluding to something else entirely.  

 

***

 

“Hey, Kurt, you’re not going to believe this.  Black Metal Daisy’s lead singer, Shawn, just called and their second guitarist decided to run off and start a nudist colony in Montana, so they’ve asked me to do a few gigs with them and---”  

Elliott finds Kurt in the kitchen, sitting at the table, head in arms resting on the table, staring at a cake.  It’s an exquisite looking cake, perfectly round with white, fluffy frosting, but there’s still a frown on Kurt’s face.

“So, I see your mastered your cooking class?”

“I made it for my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday? Happy bir-”

“My birthday was two days ago,” Kurt waves off.  “It’s fine, if I had wanted you to know, I would have said something.  I talked to my dad, he’s sending some mysterious package that probably contains food and tacky Washington DC knick-knacks, and is coming out to see me next week, so it’s fine.”

“So, the reason you’re so morose is?”

Kurt sits up and sighs as he begins to speak.  “So, I’ve spent, what, three weeks with this cooking class?  And I said to myself, the last thing I’ll do is a cake for my birthday, and it’ll be fantastic, and I’ll feel accomplished.  Well, I’ve completed the course and all I have to show for it is the world’s most boring birthday cake.   Just a white, blank cake.  Just like my life.”

Elliott raises an eyebrow.  “Something tells there’s more going on than just a cake.”

“Isabelle offered to send me to Los Angeles or Miami for a real job in the fashion industry.”

“Kurt that’s fantastic!”

“And I turned her down.”

“Huh?”

“I love fashion, but my dream is Broadway.  And the more I try to focus in on that dream, the more I wonder if I’m missing opportunities, if I’m really supposed to go down another path but am too stubborn to change course.”

“Probably,” Elliott says.  Kurt’s stunned by his bluntness.  Elliott let’s out a laugh, then heads over to the cupboards and starts opening the doors until he finds what he’s looking for.  He comes back with a bottle of multi-colored sprinkles.  Before Kurt can stop him, Elliott dumps the entire bottle on the cake.

“What are you doing?” Kurt shrieks, jumping out of his chair.  “That looks ridiculous.”

Elliott shrugs as he haphazardly spreads the sprinkles around.  “Yes, but it’s far more interesting than it was before, right?”

Kurt folds his arms across his chest.  “And your point?”

“My point is, maybe it’s not your dreams that need to change, but how you see them,” Elliott says.  “And it doesn’t hurt to mix it up every once in awhile. I mean, what happened to the guy I first met who decided to start an indie band to get experience?   Even if it’s not the exact path to your dreams, it won’t hurt to take the shortcut, or even the long way around.”

“You’re reminding me a little of Rachel.”

“In this case I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing.  What are you doing tonight? More ‘70s sitcoms?”

“Actually, I was planning a Real Housewives marathon because I have this great idea on how to turn it into a great stage production.”

Elliott grimaces.  “Why don’t we go out tonight?”

Kurt hems at the suggestion.  “I don’t know.”

“What are you now, twenty?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Oh, god, Kurt, c’mon.  One night, let’s go out, and we can have fun, and tomorrow you can go back to being vanilla cake.”

Kurt lets out a little laugh as he stares down at the cake.  There are clumps of sprinkles everywhere, but somehow it does look a bit cheerier, and slightly more appetizing.  “Alright, I’m in.”

Elliott grins.  “Good, I know just what we can do.”

 

***

 

The club Elliott takes Kurt to isn’t at all like the one he and Blaine used to frequent.  It’s a little darker, louder, and rowdier.  It’s a little more crowded as well, and under normal circumstances, he’d have turned right back out.  Tonight, though, is different.  He’s enjoying the anonymity, the unfamiliarity.  No one there is going to ask any unwanted questions.  No one’s going to have preconceived judgments.  No one’s going to expect him to be anything other than just him.  It’s a change, and it’s a welcome one.  

Elliot’s friends are nice enough.  Todd and Joe are a bit bro-ish, and remind him a little of Puck and Finn.  Gary’s talkative, but has not much to say, so Kurt only nods along, not fully following the conversation.  Patrick isn’t subtle with his flirtations, a hand is quick to rest on Kurt’s knee early in the evening.  Kurt shifts away, not really in the mood, but it’s only when Elliott whispers something into Patrick’s ear that he backs off.  Still, they’re decent people, and Elliott comes alive around his friends.  Kurt watches fondly, sipping on the fruity drink they bought him for his birthday.  There are worse things he could be doing.  

He manages to down three of the fruity drinks, which he enjoys enough to keep having another.  It’s the most alcohol he’s ever consumed in his life.  In less than an hour, he’s buzzing, but in a good way, not in an out of control way like the night he got his tattoo.  He even shows his tattoo off when the rest of the guys don’t believe he’s the type to have gotten one.  He bares his shoulder and let’s them all marvel at the enigma that he is.  Mostly, he feels safe enough to let go a little.  Elliott is never far from his side, and while he doesn’t talk much, it’s a good atmosphere.  He sits and sways to the music and laughs.  And for a little while, he feels not much like himself.  

As the night goes on, Elliott begins to be pulled away by other friends who show up at the club.  Instead of being stuck with the group, Kurt musters enough courage to venture out onto the dance floor.  He’s been itching to move all night, and now that the timing’s right, he takes the chance.  

It’s a little awkward at first, pushing past all the clumps of guys all sliding and grinding against each other, some couples practically having sex on the dance floor.  It’s more obscene than he’s used to, but he goes with the flow easily enough.   He finds an unoccupied part of the dance floor, one with a little room to maneuver, and begins to move with the beat.  At first, he knows there are others watching him, possibly wanting him, possibly wanting to join him.  A younger Kurt would blush at the prospect, but now he smiles and takes the attention all in.  

He closes his eyes and just dances,  letting the music energize him.  He may not be the most graceful one out there, but this performance is only for himself.  Tonight is about him, and letting go, and relaxing.  And as soon as he lets the music be in control, it feels like a weight has been lifted.  There’s nothing in that room but him and the driving beat, and he loves it.  

After a while, a body does come up behind him.  At first he thinks it’s Elliott, but he sees Elliott sitting at the bar, halfway across the room, sipping a beer and eyeing him with both eyebrows raised.  Kurt snaps his head back for a quick look.  It’s a handsome guy, one who’s only a smidgen shorter, lean, athletic build, dark curly hair, and a wicked smile.  Kurt approves, and goes back to dancing.  

The song changes, the beat of it more driving than the previous one.  He and Mystery Guy fall into a rhythm rather quickly.  Mystery Guy’s hands gently place on Kurt’s hips, and Kurt can feel his breath on his neck as the guy pulls him closer.  But there’s nothing pushy about it.  Kurt has full control, and can walk away anytime he likes.  He doesn’t, though, and they dance through the song, and through the next, and as they keep going, Kurt leans further and further back, until he’s fully rested on the guy’s chest.  

He feels comfortable in the guy’s arms, he hasn’t been held in so long.  They’re barely dancing, merely swaying to the music.  There’s a spark of something there, an electricity between them, a feeling Kurt hasn’t felt in a long, long time.  They’re as close as they can get now, and the tension grows.  He knows Mystery Guy just waiting for a cue.  

Feeling daring and bold, Kurt draws him in for a kiss.  It’s strange, unfamiliar, and new, but not unwanted, and he turns in the guy’s arms to deepen the kiss.  They stop dancing as they kiss quickens, heating up faster than Kurt expects, but he’s driven by need.  God, when was the last time he was kissed with such passion?  The guy coaxes Kurt’s tongue into his mouth, and sucks, as he presses their hips together.  They begin to grind, the friction so, so good as they continue to kiss.  He’s dizzy and drunk on lust and momentarily forgets that they’re in a crowded room full of strangers.  

It isn’t until he opens his eyes that the cold rush of reality falls on him.  He expects a pair of warm, hazel eyes to be looking back at him.  Instead what he sees are a steel blue, and a person he doesn’t recognize behind them.  Suddenly, the room is too warm, and he can’t breathe.  

Mystery Guy moves in again, but he puts a hand between them, and pushes away.  

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Kurt spits out.  “My fiance.”

The guy gives him a confused look, but rolls with it.  “Well, if he’s not here.”  

“No,” Kurt says, a little more forcefully this time.  And then he begins to ramble.  “My fiance--I mean my ex-fiance, we just broke up.  And I mean, I’m the one who ended it.  And it’d be disrespectful, to---this would be disrespectful to--  I mean, he was more invested, and I was more practical and we’re young right? We have to live a little before getting tied down, and someday he’ll see that.  He will. But you know he’s a really sweet guy.  He is--he was my best friend.  We’re each other’s first loves.  And you know, that’s special.  You’ll always love your first love, right?  So I can’t.  Tonight, I just can’t…”

Mystery Guy opens his mouth to speak but Kurt pushes past him before he has a chance to say anything.  The room is suffocatingly hot, and he has to get out.  This isn’t right, and he can’t breathe….

Kurt doesn’t stop moving until he’s outside, and relieved by the cool evening air.  He slides down the side of the building, sits on the sidewalk, and takes one deep breath at a time.  His mind is spinning.  Everything is hazy and unbalanced.  He feels like he’s going to be sick.  

Not five minutes later, Elliott’s out there with him, on his knees, rubbing his back.  

“So, no random hook-ups tonight, huh?” he tries to joke.  

Kurt’s cheek flush and gives him a meek smile.  “No,” he says softly.  “I’m not ready.  And I thought--I thought maybe…”  He can’t bring himself to say it out loud, but Elliott understands.  For a moment, he thought Blaine had returned for him.  

“Do you want me to take you home?” Elliott asks kindly.

“I don’t want to ruin your night.”

“It’s your night, remember?” Elliott corrects him.  “Look, we can stop and pick up some champagne, or maybe sparkling water in your case, and have that cake you made. Celebrate back home while watching season six of _Golden Girls_.  We can save the wild and crazy adventure for turning twenty-two, okay?  Does that sound okay?”

Elliott stands, and holds out his hand.  Kurt sniffles a little, then grabs onto it.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he says, then let’s Elliott guide him home.

 

***

 

A few days later, Kurt’s sipping his morning coffee, reading over a magazine when Elliott comes into the room.  Elliott’s a little hesitant in his approach, causing Kurt to raise an eyebrow.  

“How are you feeling?” Elliott asks.  

“Better,” Kurt says, though he never wants to go through another night of throwing up like that again.  “I can keep down food now.”  

“Well, that’s good.”

“Oh, by the way, I just found out _Gilmore Girls_ is on Netflix, and I think that should be our next marathon.  I love that show.  Blaine and I used to watch it religiously in high school, but whatever.  He even gave me the boxset years ago, but he took it back in the break up and--”

“Yeah, Kurt there’s something we need to talk about.”  Elliott pulls out a chair and sits down across from him.  

“Oh no, are we breaking up, too?” Kurt jokes, though that doesn’t dissipate the tension in the air.

Elliott lets out a nervous laugh.  “Well, no, not exactly.  Um, Kurt, this may be a weird thing to say but -- I don’t want to replace Blaine.”

“What do you mean?” Kurt asks, his eyes narrowing.

Elliott tilts his head, considering his words.  “When you ended it with Blaine, you didn’t just break up with your boyfriend.  You broke up with your best friend, too.  I get it, I do. And  I’m here for you, I promise, I am.  But in all honesty, I can’t be joined at the hip with you anymore.  I’m beginning to need my space, too. It’s really not been a problem, and I know you’re going through so much right now.  I just wanted to be upfront with you now, before something worse developes.  So, I’m still definitely here for you, but maybe not as much as the past month.”

“Oh,” he bits his lip, not wanting to cry in front of Elliott.  He had no idea he had been crowding his closest friend right now.  “Well, if that isn’t irony at its finest.”

“I know you miss him,” Elliott says softly.  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?  About what happened at the club, or...Blaine?” About--”

“No,” Kurt cuts him off quickly.  “There isn’t really anything to talk about.  Yes, Blaine was a big part of my life, and I’m just adjusting to him not being in it anymore.  And I’m sorry that impacted you, but it’s not easy.  But, you know, I have to move forward.  I’ve felt stuck for so long, and I need to not be anymore.  So, I don’t know.  Maybe it’s a matter of being on my own again.”

“Well, you’ll definitely get your chance this summer.”

“Oh?”

“You know that band I’ve been talking about lately?  Black Metal Daisy? They want me to join them on their summer New England Tour.”

“Elliott, that’s great!” Kurt’s sincerely happy for him, even if the prospect of his friend leaving weighed heavy on his heart.  

“Yeah, it’s going to be crazy,” Elliott says, excited.   “But, that means you’re going to be alone until the mid-August.  Is that going to be okay?”

Kurt gives him a half-smile.  “Yeah,” he says.  “It’s time I get my life back on track.”  

 


	5. I'm Still Here

_I’ve stuffed dailies in my shoes,_  
_Strummed ukuleles, sang the blues_  
_Seen all my dreams disappear_  
_But I’m here_

 

** June 2013 **

Pride.  The first visit Blaine makes after graduation is during Pride Week.  He wants to experience everything, he tells Kurt excitedly as they snuggled together on Kurt’s bed, planning out their week.  He wants to soak up the energy, the excitement, the sense of community.  He wants to take everything in.  Kurt’s, meanwhile, a little more cautious.  There’s something appealing about Pride, about being around people who truly understand you, finding that there is a place where you can and do belong.  But, oh, the crowds… The idea makes him nervous at times.

They’re up early, through the windows, the sky threatens rain.  But there’s no dampening Blaine’s enthusiasm.  Kurt sits up in bed and Blaine brings pancakes and orange juice.  Somehow they still have to rush to get ready.  The second they’re out the door, Blaine’s pulling on Kurt’s hand to get there quickly.  The parade starts at noon, he reminds Kurt multiple times, and they don’t want to be late.  It’s like taking an over-eager puppy for a walk, but Blaine’s zealousness is infectious in the best of ways.  

Kurt doesn’t know exactly what to expect when they arrive.  He has done some research, of course, but nothing prepares you for the real thing.  When they get there, they’re met with something Kurt could have never imagined.  The vast crowd stretches street after street, so many people with rainbow colored clothes, banners, flags, and signs; everything so bright and loud it’s like being in a cartoon.  There are strange costumes, and wild hair, and people with almost no clothes on at all. The feathers and sequins are spectacular, the leather is used well, though some people could learn a lesson about when less is more.  

What stands out to Kurt more than anything is not how everyone is dressed, or the signs they have, or even the questionable-for-public toys a few of them hold, but how delightfully gay the atmosphere is.  Same-sex couples everywhere, holding hands, kissing, hugging, showing off all the public displays of affection that straight people take for granted.  And it’s glorious.  It’s not just their age either.  There’s an older lesbian couple standing near them with a sign that says ‘50 years and counting’ on it.  There are young kids, younger than he and Blaine, who hold each other tightly.  

There’s a sense of magic in the air that Kurt’s never felt before.

They find a nice place to stand to watch the parade.  It’s in the back of the crowd, but they can still see the floats easily enough, and a little deli and coffeeshop sits behind them in case they want to sneak away for something to eat.   Blaine stands behind Kurt and wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist.  Kurt leans back, relaxing into Blaine’s arms, resting his head against Blaine’s shoulder.  The parade starts, and the crowd goes wild, but Kurt just takes it all in as the activity swirls around him.  

Kurt turns to kiss Blaine, not a chaste peck they only allowed themselves in high school, but a full on passionate kiss he never dreamed he would try out in public.  Blaine’s quick in response, and soon it’s tongues and teeth and letting themselves get swept away in the moment.  It’s a rush.  Making out in public is not something Kurt ever thought he’d get the opportunity to try, let alone decide if he’s turned on by it.  Blaine, thinking he’s sneaky, drops a hand to give Kurt’s cock a squeeze.  Kurt flushes deeply, there are some lines.  But even if anyone had noticed, no one would have cared.  There are more obscene things going on around them.  Feeling bold, Kurt slips a hand behind him and strokes Blaine a few times, enough to get Blaine to moan in his ear.  Kurt grins.

But the little game they’ve started ends quickly as a float with giant dancing heads of the Golden Girls captures Kurt’s attention.

He pulls Blaine away from the crowd before the parade finishes, claiming that he wants to beat the crowds, but really he just wants Blaine alone.  They take the long way home, walking hand in hand along unexplored streets instead of the subway, chatting, window shopping, and making each other laugh along the way.  When they get home they have a quick fuck on the couch then lazily make love on the bed.  And afterwards they they throw on some underwear to cook risotto and dance to jazz.   Rachel’s still in Lima, and when have they ever had this much freedom to be themselves?  

The evening is spent curled on the couch with authentic New York raspberry cheesecake, a bottle of riesling given to them by Blaine’s brother and _Project Runway_ , with a little making out just like old times during the commercials.  

It’s the best day Kurt’s had in a long time.  The best since Finn died.  

Kurt pulls Blaine close against him as they cuddle up in bed together, and quickly falls asleep, relaxed and happy and hopeful.  

  


**June 2014**

Mornings are the easiest.  He used to have a hard time with mornings, Blaine having to drag him out for early breakfast or to make a class.  But now that summer is here, with its sunshine and warmth, Kurt wakes with the sun.  It’s cups of coffee with granola, or yogurt, or eggs and toast. (No more pancakes. He can’t quite stomach them, even with fresh fruit in the house.)  He reads the paper on his phone and catches up with blogs.  He does yoga at least three times a week.  His head is clearest in the morning.  Each one gives him an opportunity to seize the day.  

 

***

 

Elliott calls him from the road once a week.  He never says it, but Kurt is aware that it’s an obligation.  A way to make sure that Kurt is alive, and still a functioning human being.  Kurt talks very little about his life though, and Elliott doesn’t ask many questions anyway.  Instead, Elliott describes life on the road--Boston, Philadelphia, Atlantic City, and numerous smaller places Kurt’s never heard of.  It sounds relentless, picking up and going night after night, never sure what the crowd’s going to be like, or whether the city will accept or reject you.  There’s plenty of drama to go around on the tour bus, petty things that seem so much bigger when you’re squished together in a small space for long hours.  But Elliott loves it, the joy of it radiating in his words. And when they hang up, Kurt tries not to be resentful of not collecting more experiences in his life.  

 

Burt calls him at least three times a week.  It’s become their routine, father and son connecting to stay connected.  Kurt talks little about New York.  There’s not much to tell.  Burt talks little about Washington, not much ever changes.  But his dad’s much brighter when he talks of Lima, of the tire shop which might be expanding to a second store, of Carole who has one hobby after another, of their neighbors who are up to all sorts of unusual things and the new businesses that are moving in.  Lima’s a sleepy town, but even it is changing with the times.

“So, when are you coming home?” Burt asks at the end of every conversation.

“I want to dad, I do,” Kurt says, but always has an excuse in his backpocket.  “But the restaurant is short, and they don’t like it when I ask for time off.”

He and Burt both know he’s avoiding the question.  But his dad is patient and kind, and okay with letting Kurt set his own pace.  He misses his dad, misses Carole, misses Breadstix and McKinley and his old room.  But he’s not ready to go back, not yet.  He schedules to meet Burt for lunch halfway between Washington and New York, and it’s always good to see his dad again.  But he’s still not ready to return home.  

 

***

 

The mid-day hours are hard to fill.  There are shifts at the restaurant, but those are few and far between.  Still, he makes it a point to leave the house as often as he can.  Some days he tries to find a new place for lunch, even when the deli on the corner has the best sandwiches and egg salad.  Other days he ventures farther, window shopping on Fifth Avenue or daydreaming and people watching in Central Park.  And there are times when he can catch a matinee show of a movie or a play, or go down to the sheet music store to find what’s new, or head up to NYADA for vocal practice so not to get rusty.

When he had first arrived in New York, these kinds of adventures were things he reveled in -- exploring the city on his own, learning its secrets, and discovering new things.  He doesn’t feel the thrill he once did of doing everything alone, and is surprised when he returns home feeling less satisfied than he used to.  

There are also ghosts lingering in the city; the cronut shop near the loft that Blaine loved, the ice cream place the McKinley kids used to frequent down by Times Square, the club Callbacks, with all of its bittersweet memories.  Most of the time, he remembers and takes the next street down.  But every once in awhile, he stumbles upon these ghosts on accident.  And it’s then when the loneliness of the city feels heavy upon him.  He usually heads back to the comfort of home afterwards, finding distractions to avoid the nostalgia and sadness of those ghosts.  

 

***

 

He tries to call Rachel, but to no avail.  He’s concerned for her, because her silence is something that’s never happened in the time that he’s known her, and because he was able to watch her show on Youtube and it’s as bad as he had heard.  But also, selfishly, he wanted someone to talk to.  Someone to tell about all of his adventures, about the barbershop down the street that he’s sure is a front for the mafia because no one is ever in it, or about the new piano bar that opened up a few blocks south of him and he’s been dying to go inside.   But Rachel is very firmly not there.  And after talking with her dads, he learns that she is need of her own privateness for a while.  He’s not the only one who needs time to heal.

 

He texts Tina instead of calling.  It’s like dipping his toe into the ocean, he doesn’t know if something will bite.  But still, she’s a friend.  There’s no reason he shouldn’t make an effort to reach out to her more.  She doesn’t reply for weeks, and he assumes it might have to do with Blaine.  As much as they’re out of high school now, there are some things that don’t change, and post-break-up rules seem to be one of them.  When she does reply, he expects maybe a nasty letter telling him off.  Instead, she wishes him well and says she’s too busy to make it into the city.  It’s short, and to the point, and not entirely Tina-like, but maybe she’s growing, too.  And maybe she really is busy in her new life.  

 

***

 

The evenings are quiet.  Most days he comes home and draws back in on himself.  He’s almost accepting of the silences.  It’s a way to recharge.  

He makes dinner, then chooses one of his routine evening activities; listening to old Broadway divas sing their sorrows away while he cooks and feels reflective, or Beyonce and Madonna when he wants to feel energized while cleaning the apartment; scouring varying fashion forums and reality TV chat sites while catching up on his blog writing; or relaxing on the couch with Lipton iced-tea and a stack of Vogue and Elle magazines to keep him company.  Sometimes he makes sketches of new outfit designs, and files them away in a folder labeled ‘Hummel Brag’.  Sometimes he’ll waste an entire afternoon watching dumb cat videos online.

He goes through a week of watching old musicals; _Fiddler, South Pacific, Oklahoma, Carousel_.  All old things he used to watch with his mom when he was little.  It’s comforting, like coming home to old friends.  

Most nights, however, he binges on TV, six, eight, ten episodes before he realizes he’s tired enough to head to bed.  Elliott doesn’t have a TV, and his own is in storage, so he curls up on the couch with a plate of cookies or a smoothie and uses his computer to watch.   He catches up on the reality shows first, _Project Runway, Real Housewives, RuPaul’s Drag Race_ , then move on to sitcom of choice.   

He tries a few newer shows, because he’s been through his catalogue of old favorites already.   _Parks and Rec_ and _Arrested Development_ are fine but the will-they, won’t-they romance of Pam and Jim on the US version of _The Office_ is too depressing, and Kurt stops watching a few episodes from the end of season three.   

He picks up _Gilmore Girls_ again instead.  

One evening, he tries watching _Moulin Rouge_.  And it’s fine, really, for a while -- until the “Elephant Love Medley”, and he had somehow forgotten that the first few bars were “all you need is love”.  It’s like hitting an exposed nerve, a wash of intense emotion all at once, and there’s a flash of a moment that seems more like a scene out of a movie than his own memory.  He slams his computer shut before it can get any further, and then lies there, heart racing, trying hard not to let himself think.  

His evenings are supposed to be his safe place, and he refuses to go back to feeling all of that pain again.  That night he makes a list of things that he knows he shouldn’t watch until he’s ready.  Then he takes a long shower, an excuse to not allow himself to cry himself asleep.  

 

***

 

Sometime in mid-June, he calls Artie, and eventually pins him down for a dinner together.  He and Artie have never been close, but he isn’t sure why they haven’t tried to do more things together since they’re both the only ones in the city for the summer.

He expects Artie to go on and on about his latest film subject, but the dinner is awkwardly quiet.  

“Why’d you do that to him?” Artie finally asks as dinner is winding down.  It’s as if he’d been sitting on the question all evening.  “Sam says he isn’t eating, sleeping – he won’t even go with Sam to karaoke night at Breadstix.”  

“You know, not that it’s any of your business, Artie, but why am I constantly being painted as the bad guy here?  I’m sorry that Blaine is having a hard time, but it’s not my responsibility anymore.”

“I’ve always know that you’re a cold person, Kurt Hummel, but I’ve never known you to be so callous and heartless.”  

“That’s a high judgment coming from you of all people, Artie.”  

Dinner is cut short.  

 

***

 

Nights are the hardest.  Often times he’ll lie in bed, unable to sleep.  After two months of being in Elliott’s apartment, the shadows are still unfamiliar, the sounds unrecognizable, and the tiny second bedroom too stuffy and cramped.  His misses the seemingly vast space of the loft.  He misses the excessive light shining in the window, the sound of the neighbor’s dog from below barking at three in the morning, and the way the plumbing used to clink.  

He wishes he hadn’t stored away Bruce, his boyfriend arm.  Cuddled in Bruce’s arm had always helped him sleep better.  He buys a body pillow.  But it’s not the same.  

 

***

 

Mercedes calls him one evening out of the blue.  She’s out in California, somewhere close to the Pacific Ocean.  It’s a night off from the tour, most of the crew is out enjoying the beach, and Brittany and Santana are off celebrating some anniversary of something.  He’s happy for them, even if that happiness stings a little.

“You know, I heard from Tina,” she says, shortly into the conversation.  He takes a sharp breath, knowing where it’s going.  “About you and Blaine.  And I can’t help but wonder why you didn’t tell me.”

She sounds hurt, and he’s not sure what kind of lecture he’s about to receive.   “I didn’t want to burden you with my problems while you’re on your tour.  And besides, I’m still trying to figure it out for myself.  The last thing I need is someone else telling me how awful--”

“Stop, Kurt Hummel,” she says firmly, though there’s kindness in her voice, too.  She lets out a sigh.   “You know, you aren’t the only one who recently broke it off with someone they love because they thought it was the right thing to do.”

Oh.

 “So, I called because I know how hard it is right now.  And I thought maybe you should know you’re not alone in the world.”

Her words are a balm to his heart.  “I don’t hate him, you know?”

“I don’t hate Sam.”

“It wasn’t about him.  It was about me.  I wasn’t ready.”

“Neither was I.”

“But I keep feeling like I’ve been cast as the villain in my own story.”

“Look, you’re allowed to feel not ready. Believe me, I understand.  You’re allowed to have doubts and fears and know that sometimes you need to take a step back, and that’s okay.  It’s better than the alternative of breaking something past the point of repair  So, don’t let anyone make you feel guilty for taking care of you first.  You’re not the bad guy, Kurt.  You’re just human.”

He breaks down, tears flowing down his cheeks.  He feels much like the kid he once was, opening up to Mercedes in front of that locker, coming out the first time, raw and vulnerable.   But Mercedes has always made him feel safe.

“I wish I was as strong as you, Mercedes Jones.”

“I know.”

He can hear her smile, and he feels warm inside.  

 

***

 

He’s not sure what prompts him to go.   He isn’t all that fond of crowds unless they’re in front of him, applauding a performance well done.  And he rarely ventures out into one alone.  But it’s the end of June, and it’s Pride, and there’s something pulling him to go out and see.  

The parade has already started when he arrives at the back of crowd.  People are cheering, music is playing, the atmosphere is warm and welcoming.  These are still his people, even if he doesn’t recognize a single face in the crowd.  And yet there’s something eerily the same about the parade this year.  Like he’s walked back into time.  It’s a strange feeling.  

He makes his way down the street, behind the crowd, almost as if he’s not a part of it.  There are people to try to pull him in, an older lesbian who hands him a mini-rainbow flag to hold up and twirl, a man dressed in an elaborate green fairy costume, who takes his hands and dances him in a circle while singing Lady Gaga, a couple of Drag Queens who are selling multi-colored snow cones.  But he’s not connected to it.  Not the way he did last year.  He’s on the other side of the glass, an outsider looking in.

One of the floats catches his attention, an entire production dedicated to _Star Wars_ and all the queer possibilities that it could offer.  And Kurt laughs, because Blaine used to have these elaborate theories.  And then, not meaning to, he thinks of Blaine, really thinks of Blaine, and how much he loves this event.  Much more than Kurt.  There’s something suddenly hollow about being there alone.  And that’s when he sees them.  It’s funny how the ghosts of the city can sneak up on you.

There are a couple of young boys pressed up against one of the buildings, kissing passionately, sliding against each other, tight in each other’s embrace.  They’re so much in their own bubble they don’t care that others are around.  They just need each other.  And for the most part, no one is taking notice.  No one except Kurt, who feels like an intrusive voyeur.  

Kurt tries to break his gaze away, but can’t.  And when the boys break for a moment, one of them looks in his direction.  His heart nearly stops.  It’s Blaine staring back at him, his eyes angry and judging.  But the weirdest thing is that the second boy, the one who’s face is still covered in shadow, looks like him.  And he feels like he’s looking at an unsettling mirror, a window on the past.  Blaine slides a hand up the other boy’s back, and there’s a silver ring on his finger.  

_Are you happy now, Kurt?_

Blaine’s dark stare speaks directly to him, taunting him.  

_Well are you?_

A couple of kids running through the crowd accidentally crash into him, breaking him out of his trance.  When he looks back at the couple, the ghosts have disappeared, Blaine isn’t there, and all he sees are a redhead and Hispanic boy with their arms around each other’s waists, happily laughing with a few friends.  The illusion is gone.  

Still, he’s shaken.  He heads home before the parade is over.

 

***

 

Some nights, when it’s especially late and he can’t sleep, or when he’s feeling extra lonely, he reaches underneath his bed and pulls out a shoebox that holds a framed photo. It’s a picture of him and Finn at graduation, one of his favorites.  He doesn’t believe in the afterlife, or in ghosts, or otherworldly things.  But if he did, Finn would be looking down on him, making sure he’s okay.  

He places that frame on the nightstand. If Finn had lived, would he and Rachel still have been in orbit around each other? Or would he have found a new path?  Would he be in Lima? Or would the wind taken him some other place?  Would he have taken Kurt’s side? Or... ?  The list continues, questions that don’t really have answers.  

He still misses his brother, deeply.  Misses that he was someone Kurt could talk to, rely on, someone that would make him feel not so alone in the world.  

The pain of grief isn’t as sharp anymore. Just a dull ache now, a reminder of a scar that will always remain.  And he wonders, as he’s finally able to drift asleep, does time heal all wounds?  Or is there some pain that never really goes away.  

  



	6. I'll Remember

_I learned to let go of the illusion that we can posses_  
_I learned to let go, I travel in stillness_  
_And I’ll remember happiness_  
_I’ll remember_

 

** July 2010 **

“Mercedes, your ideal Disney Prince is Prince Phillip,” Kurt says, hunching over the magazine with a big grin on his face.  They’re sitting in the Lima Bean, enjoying a couple of iced mochas and the air conditioning as they finish up taking a quiz from a tween magazine they found left at one of the tables.  “Like Sleeping Beauty, you are confident, kind, and curious, but you also spend many of your days dreaming of romance and love.  Prince Phillip is the perfect match, when he’s not being charming,  adorable, and maybe a little clumsy, he’s slaying dragons in the name of true love.   Wake up, girl, because this Prince will sing his way into your heart and dance with you in the clouds to your happily ever after.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Mercedes is giving him an eye roll.  “This quiz is ridiculous.  There’s no way I’m going to lie around waiting for some guy to save me.  I have better things to do with my time.”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be so cynical,” Kurt says.  “Besides, you deserve a hunky piece of white chocolate like Prince Phillip in your life.”

“Kurt Hummel, you did not just say that.”  She snaps the magazine away from him.  “Your turn.  Okay, Kurt, your ideal Disney Prince is Prince Eric.  Like Ariel, you’re a girl who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it.  Prince Eric might be a little oblivious about what he has right under his nose, but no fear once he hears your beautiful voice, you’ll have this charming and brave Prince right under your spell.  With a love so strong that nothing can break it, the two of you will go on to fight the world (and that evil sea witch) together.”  

“Ug, Mercedes.  I won’t deny that Prince Eric is dreamy, and _The Little Mermaid_ was my favorite movie when I was six, but there is no way I’m changing myself just to impress some guy only for him to ignore me and hook up with some obnoxious brunette.”  

As if on cue, Rachel enters the cafe, pulling Finn in with her.  The two are smitten with each other, arms around each other’s waists, and noses nuzzled together.  It’s enough to make Kurt’s stomach churn.  

“Honey, you have got to get over that,” Mercedes says, taking his hand.  

“I am,” he reassures her as much as himself.  He squeezes her hand but the look on her face shows that she doesn’t quite believe him.  

He watches as Rachel and Finn get a booth in the corner, and snuggle up together as they share a cookie, giggling as Rachel smears some chocolate on Finn’s nose.  

He’s over Finn. Mostly. The incident in his basement a few months ago had been enough to wake him from his fantasy of having Finn as a boyfriend.  But as he watches Rachel, he still feels the slow creep of envy rise.  It’s not the Finn of it all.  It’s the fact that she’s demanding, selfish, and mostly intolerable.  But still, she’s found someone who will listen to her, hold her, kiss her, sing to her, all the things that Kurt so desperately wants for himself.   _That_ dream, however, is just a fairy tale.  Guys like him don’t find princes.  Not in Ohio anyway.  

Mercedes shakes his hand, pulling his attention back towards her.  “He’s out there you know.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow.  “Who is?”

“The real man of your dreams. Just have a little faith.”

Kurt scoffs.  “Sure, and I’ll just click my heels together, and my fairy-godmother will pop out of thin air.  And with the snap of her finger grant me three wishes and a whole line of color-changing outfits to meet my one true love in.”

“Now who’s being cynical?” Mercedes says with a laugh.

The bell above the cafe door rings and in come a dozen or so prep-school boys in tailored blue and red blazers, all of them just as handsome as the next.  The particularly cute dark-haired boy in the back holds the door for an elderly lady to exit before he comes into the cafe.  As he passes Kurt, their eyes meet for a split second, and the boy gives him a friendly smile.  Kurt gives a half-smile back as the boy joins his friends.

“See,” Mercedes says, playfully slapping him on his arm.  “You never know who might enter the story.”

“Okay, I think this metaphor has been beaten to death,” Kurt says, standing up.  “Let’s head over to Between the Sheets to pick out some music.  We have to get something good if we’re going to make it past Regionals.”

“You know, Kurt,” Mercedes says, standing and looping and arm through his.  “I have a feeling that it’s going to be our year.”  

  


**July 2014**

A few days before The Fourth he gets a phone call from Maggie Banks asking if he’d like to come visit her on the holiday.  He hasn’t seen her since school ended and jumps at the chance.  He meets her in the living room at the Lexington Retirement Home. She beams at him and opens her arms. The hug is warm and soulful. He’s never been so grateful to have her in his life.

She’s pretty chatty from the get go, telling him about how she’s reconnected with her daughter over the past few months, and showing him pictures of her two grandsons, whom she had never met until a few weeks earlier.  He listens attentively, quietly nodding in the correct spots.  Her happiness is infectious, and it’s nice to be able to soak it all in.  But after a while she stops talking and considers him.  

“What’s going on with you, Pillsbury?” she asks.  “You’re usually the one who talks my ear off.  And now you’re silent as a mouse.  Are those friends of yours giving you a hard time again?”

“No, no,” Kurt says, shaking his head.  “Everyone’s good.”

She tilts her head, not fully buying what he’s saying.  “What about that nice boy you’re dating.  Will he be joining us tonight for the firework show?”

Kurt looks down, hesitating before he speaks again.  “No,” he replies softly.  “He and I aren’t together anymore.”  

“Oh,” she pats him gently on the cheek.  “Well, that isn’t easy, I know.  I’ve been divorced twice.  But, cheer up, Pillsbury.  You never know when someone special might enter your life.”

There’s a twinkle in her eye as she says it.  And later, when they’ve reached the designated spot the retirement home has for them on the harbor to watch the fireworks, she introduces her new boyfriend Darrell, a charming man in his late seventies.  Darrell’s just come to live at the retirement home, gaining entrance since he was in the chorus line of many musicals during the ‘60s and ‘70s, and says that Maggie was the first one to welcome him.  The two have been inseparable since.  Kurt adores seeing Maggie so radiant with her new love, but there’s a part of his heart, buried deep, that feels a twinge of sadness for himself, too.  

The afternoon flies by.  There’s a buffet set up for dinner and a makeshift stage for the old Broadway veterans to take turns singing on.  It’s delightful to hear these old pros singing again, even if half of them are now out of tune and out of practice.  Their spirit makes up for it.  Maggie even manages to pull Kurt up for a number or two, and, god, does it feel good to be singing again.  

“It looks like your grandmother and my grandfather seem to be hitting it off pretty well.”  It’s nearly night time now, and Kurt’s taking a break near the buffet.  He’s joined at one of the tables by a guy who looks to be in his early thirties, with shoulder-length blond hair and a red, plaid shirt and jeans.  He reminds Kurt a little of Sam, if Sam had a more Western aesthetic about him.  The guy nods to the stage where Maggie and Darrell are singing the old classic “Anything You Can Do”.  

Kurt lets out a laugh.  “Oh, no, she’s not my grandmother.  She’s just--” _another fairy godmother?_ “She’s just a good friend of mine.  So, Darrell’s your grandfather?”

“Yes, I don’t get out to see him as often as I should,” the guy says.  “My name is Ben, by the way.”

“Kurt.”

Ben, it turns out, is surprisingly easy to talk to.  Kurt explains how he knows Maggie, which leads them to a discussion of current theater, and old school theater, and musicals and plays.  And Kurt’s doesn’t remember the last time he’s found such a captive audience when he goes on about his passions and his dream to someday be on Broadway.  Ben is warm and easily engaged, and they walk around deep in conversation until they realize a few hours have passed, and it’s time for the firework show to start.  

“You know, the Fourth of July has always been one of my favorite holidays,” Ben says, as they find a place to sit on a free patch of grass. They wave back to Maggie and Darrell, who’ve cuddled up on a bench.

“Why’s that?” Kurt asks.

“Independence is just a nice thing to celebrate,” Ben says, with a bit of a grin.  

Kurt senses there’s more underneath the comment, but doesn’t press it, and instead thinks of his own, recent freedom.  “Yeah, I guess it can be.”

Ben relaxes back onto his arms.  “You know, I miss celebrating holidays in New York.  Back when I was a kid, we used to come out here all the time.  Easily the best part of the summer.  California may be flashier, but New York has more genuine heart.”

“You’ve come all the way from California to help you grandfather?  That’s really nice of you.”

Ben frowns slightly.  “Can’t say it was the most selfless act.”

Kurt doesn’t have more time to ask questions as the firework show begins.  At first burst, the fireworks are brilliant, glittery and splendid, lighting up the sky with every color imaginable.  He feels like a little kid again, the joy and wonder of it all causing the heaviness of adulthood to seep away.  He can’t remember the last time he felt this free.  He thinks about independence, and how after everything that’s happened this year, that he finally feels like he’s himself again.  Though independence can come with the price of loneliness.  And he hadn’t realized just how lonely he had been the past few months, especially now that he has connected with someone new and interesting, someone with a warm smile and kind eyes.  

After the show ends, and the clapping and yelling and celebrating dies down, Ben gets up and holds a hand out for Kurt to take.  

“It’s been nice to spend the evening with you, Kurt,” Ben says.

“Yeah, same.”  Kurt takes Ben hand and lets him help him up.  

Ben looks at him a long time, as if thinking through carefully what to say next.  “You said you’re an actor, right? You wouldn’t be interested in doing a play would you?  It’s a little short notice, but I’m in a production, and we could really use someone.”

Kurt’s eyes grow wide with interest.

 

***

 

The play, it turns out, is an all-male retelling of Snow White. The director, an old high school friend of Ben’s, runs the production company as well, which has already done a queer retelling of Cinderella, and Beauty and the Beast is planned for later in the summer.  While still considered children’s theater, the series has gotten a little buzz, and Kurt believes he can get a little notoriety from doing the show.  

The actor who dropped out, however, played the title character, the male version of Snow White -- Prince Snow.  Despite being the subject for which the play is based, Prince Snow doesn’t have a whole lot to do.  He remains fragile and easily upset, throughout, and blindly follows everything the people around him tell him to do.  And was Disney’s Snow White really this helpless and dumb? He can’t remember.  But the part is still a starring role, and there’s even a song for him to sing, so he decides to do it.  And the best part is he doesn’t have to do an audition.  The moment the director lays eyes on him, he had declares Kurt the most perfect looking Prince Snow he could ever imagine.  Kurt’s not quite sure how to take that, especially when it feels a little too close to Sue Sylvester calling him Porcelain.  

“It’s just that he’s so delicate,” Kurt says to Ben as they’re leaving the theater after rehearsal.  They’ve quickly settled into an easy routine, meeting at the same subway stop before rehearsal, and waiting for each other after.  Ben is easy-going as they come, and quietly listens as Kurt thinks out loud about the play.  “It’s frustrating, in a way, that he doesn’t seem to be able to do anything for himself.”

“And you don’t fault that of the original female character?”

“No, I do.  It’s just that it’s--”

“More pronounced with male characters?”

“Yeah.”

“I think that’s the part of the point.”  Ben laughs easily, and nudges his shoulder.  “But, you know, it’s a fairy tale.  They’re supposed to be overly simplistic.  The kids don’t care, they just want to see the love story happy ending.  And to be able to present that to them with gay characters? It’s a good thing that we’re doing.”

Right before the stairs to the subway, there’s an elderly man with a flower cart.  Kurt recognizes him immediately, a vendor he and Blaine would cross paths with back when his cart had been closer to the loft.  

“Mr. Hummel,” the old man calls, waving a hand in the air.  “Here, I have fresh flowers for your love, the white ones that he likes so much.  Buy a bunch for him?” He tries to shove a bouquet of flowers at Kurt, but Kurt declines, stating he no longer needs them, and briskly passes him by.

Ben follows him down, keeping up with Kurt’s pace, as he hurries downs the stairs and onto the subway platform.  They stand in awkward silence for a few minutes.

“So…” Ben asks.  “What was weird.”

Kurt determinedly stairs at one of the posters on the wall, though not really reading it.  Even in the rankness of the subway, he can still smell the sweetness of those flowers.  They were in the loft all the time.  “It’s nothing.  There was this guy...who liked them a lot.”

Ben looks at him interested, though Kurt tries to brush it off.  

“So there’s a guy in the picture?”

“Was.”

“Huh. You do have broken heart written all over you.”

“Oh, I--” Kurt blushes. “We were engaged.  Now we’re not.”

Ben sees through the line he’s so used to giving.  “The story is never that simple.”

“Well, maybe it was a fairy tale that needed to end.”  Kurt holds himself tight, rubbing his arm.  It feels too cold down here in the subway.

“Is that what you’re telling yourself?”

“What about you?” Kurt forces a grin on his face. “What brings you running all the way from California?”

“Do you really want to know or are you avoiding?”

“Both. Maybe.”

Ben folds his arms, thinking about it.  “Once upon a time there was this guy.  And we fell in love.  And then ten years went by and we weren’t in love anymore.  The end.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow.  “I thought you said the story is never that simple.”

“It isn’t.”

 

***

 

The play’s rehearsal schedule is more grueling than Kurt had expected.  Sure, there are only four weeks to prepare, but it’s only an hour play at its longest, and Kurt hadn’t expected to be needed for at least ten hours almost every day.  He’s especially grumbly the two days spent on a scene where he’s literally lying on his back while the other actors do things around him.  He never thought fake sleeping would be a hard thing to conquer.  Still, he’s back on stage, performing, becoming someone who is not him, and he’s loving it.  He’s missed it.  The adaptation isn’t something he thinks as particularly well written, but god if he isn’t going to be the best, damn Prince Snow ever to grace the stage.  

The director, James, is a bit intense.  He’s yelled at every actor at least once, and Kurt’s gotten into a couple of fights with him over characterization.  He even told Kurt on one occasion that he wasn’t being effeminate enough.  Kurt never thought he’d hear that note in his life.  But once he learns that James’s eccentricities is sort of how he operates, he’s able to handle rehearsals better.  

Ben, however, is not Prince Charming.  Instead, his role is that of the Evil King, who is much more frightening than the Evil Queen in the original story.  Ben sells the role well, even though after a week, Kurt knows just how much an act it is, as Ben is one of the gentlest people he knows.  

The cast is at least friendly, the seven burly guys who play the dwarves are as lighthearted as they come, while the guy who plays the huntsman is a seasoned actor, who tells his stories of past New York shows.  The one exception is the actor who plays Prince Charming, a guy who’s a little too preoccupied with how good looking he is and constantly tells everyone how his looks alone will land him a starring role in a movie.  Everyone else ignores him, though.  But, despite Kurt’s misgivings about the play itself, the casting works, the guys are genuinely fun to be around, and Kurt’s grateful to be a part of it.

As the days fly by, Kurt spends a majority of his time with Ben.  They meet for coffee every morning, and in between scenes talk about theater and musicals, and Ben talks a lot about literature, a subject Kurt isn’t fully interested in, but Ben makes it fascinating enough.  And every once in awhile they’ll grab dinner together when rehearsals run late.  

Kurt can’t imagine doing the play without Ben there.  Kurt also can’t believe he went so long without having someone to talk to on a regular basis.  He had almost forgotten what it was like to have someone around all the time.  He’s missed it.  

Kurt arrives a little late one morning to their standing pre-rehearsal coffee meetup.   Ben’s there already, a flood of paperwork filling the table.  When Kurt sits with his mocha, Ben’s quietly singing “Teenage Dream” to himself.  It momentarily unnerves him until he realizes that it’s is playing on the cafe’s radio.  Kurt grimaces as he sits.

“Not a Katy Perry fan I take it?” Ben asks with a smirk.

“I’ve just heard it sung better.”

“Ah.  Well, good news, rehearsal is delayed a few hours today because James has to take his pet snake into the vet.”

“Are those even legal in the city?” Kurt asks.

“I didn’t ask.  But you know he’s going to be more dramatic than usual.”

“So, what are you doing?” Kurt asks, placing his cup on the table without disturbing the mess of papers.

“Oh--” Ben taps the papers.  “Comparing my syllabus to the recent curriculum updates and revising.  Thrilling work.”  
“Oh,” Kurt says in surprise.  “Are you a student?”

“No.” Ben throws his head back with a laugh. “No, I’m a professor at the University of San Francisco, Kurt.  I have a degree in Classic Literature, but I usually end up teaching basic English skills to incoming freshman. And, as much fun as this little bubble has been, at the end of the summer, I have to return to reality.”

In the warmth of a lazy July, however, reality seems overrated.  Kurt thinks of NYADA, and how far away that feels, even if he’ll be having to meet with an advisor soon.  He’s happy, at the moment, standing still, enjoying working on this one production, not letting the weight of reality weigh him down.  

“It’s funny,” Kurt says, playing with the cardboard slip around his cup.  “It occurs to me that we’ve been spending all this time together, but I barely know you.  Oh! You didn’t have an illicit affair with a student, or something, and that’s why you came out here from California?”

“Oh, god, no,” Ben says.  “My students’ distinct lack of hygene is enough to keep me away.  No.  Um, more about me?  I suppose that’s fair -- as long as you’re willing to share a little about you, too.”

Kurt shrugs it off. “My life probably isn’t anywhere near as interesting as yours.”

“Yeah, you’re overestimating my life story,” Ben says.  “So, um, I grew up on Long Island.  Went to school at NYU.  Thought I was going to be an actor and make it big.  Also during that time, I met Kyle.” He takes a deep breath, as if it’s harder to talk about then he let’s on.  “He was -- so cute then, ambitious as I was, and we were both going to be the next big thing.  Only thing, neither of us were good at acting.  I went into English, he went into tech, and we decided we’d go out to California.  It wasn’t taboo to be gay in New York back then, but still, San Francisco was the place to be.  Yeah.  And, you know, college was fun. It was.  But after we moved.  It’s hard enough to live with someone.  But to do so knowing that spark is just gone? And I guess it was fine for the first few years, but, god, that was all nearly ten years ago at this point.  Anyway, Kyle and I had just become so complacent that it took us that long to realize just how much we had fallen out of love with each other.  Well, we broke up -- last May.  And so, I decided to come out here, used Grandpa as an excuse to get some space so that I could think.  And here I am.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kurt manages.  He isn’t sure what else to say.  

“It’s fine.  Really,” Ben says.   “I’m not sad about the breakup.  Not really.  I’m sad that I spent so much time not living the life I was meant to be living.”

“Do you miss him?  Your ex-partner. Um, Kyle?” Kurt asks.  “I can imagine how hard it must be, after having so much of your story tied up with him.”

“Not really, no,” Ben says, easily enough that it surprises Kurt. “I miss being in a relationship.  I think that’s one reason I stayed so long.  But that’s the weird thing about falling out of love.  You have a memory of what needing that person in your life is like.  But you no longer have any real emotions.  Granted, I’m hard pressed to believe we ever had real love.  Breaking it off wasn’t hard because we still had feelings.  Breaking it off was hard because we grew accustomed to the comfort and routine of what our life was.”  

“Oh,” Kurt drinks a long sip of mocha.  It hadn’t been that easy with Blaine.  It still isn’t.  But he tries not to think about that.

“So, what about you, Kurt? What’s your story?”

Kurt tells him about Ohio, and about his dad.  About Rachel, and Mercedes, and Elliott, and how his friends all have big dreams that are coming true, while he’s struggling with his.  He talks about Maggie and Isabelle, and how he’s fallen completely in love with New York.  And he talks passionately about his dreams of the stage.  

He doesn’t mention Blaine.  Not once.  

Ben watches him closely, as if waiting for the story that he doesn’t tell.  Thankfully, he doesn’t ask.

 

***

 

It’s raining in New York City.  

The afternoon had been sunny enough.  Kurt and Ben had eaten dinner with Maggie and Darrell, somewhat new routine for the four of them, the elderly couple recounting stories from Old Broadway, much to Kurt’s delight.  

The clouds settle in as they walk home, so Ben invites Kurt to have a drink with him at the hotel bar where he’s staying.  The chat is light, mostly about how adorable Maggie and Darrell are in their old age.  But there’s a tension between them that hadn’t been there before.  

The storm picks up, lightning cracking so loudly that it rattles the glasses and makes the entire bar look toward the window.  Kurt enjoys the rain, though, and can’t help but watch as it pours.  There’s something comforting about it.  There were some happy memories when it rained.

“Blaine always loved thunderstorms,” Kurt admits, almost involuntarily.  

This catches Ben’s attention.  “Blaine? The mysterious ex-fiance you never talk about?”

Kurt folds in on himself, playing with the straw of his drink, and nods slowly.  “He, um.  He used to have this theory about thunderstorms, which I think he made up because I used to hate them so much.  He used to say that it was just the gods bowling.  Not just a god, all of them, Zeus, Odin, Jesus, Buddha, they were all having a splendid time playing bumper bowling.  And, god, bumper bowling, because Blaine loves bumper bowling.  You know, I’m an atheist, but I’ve never been afraid of storms since.”

Kurt gets a flash of a memory, of he and Blaine, curled up on the couch together when Blaine first told him that story.  He had felt so warm, so safe.  

Ben rests his head in his hand, wondering about Kurt.  “Can I ask?  How did you find yourself with a broken engagement before the age of twenty-one?”

Kurt isn’t sure where to start.  He isn’t sure he wants to start.  “He was my best friend.  And we fell in love.  And it was perfect.  Everything was so perfect, until we got here.  But living together wasn’t working, and everything was moving too fast.  And I needed some time, too, to think.   He is, still, one of my favorite people. But I had all these doubts.  I mean, what if we spent all this time together and we weren’t meant to be?  What if we fell out of love? What if I ended up hating him because we never tried another path?  I never wanted to do that to him.  To us.  I didn’t want us to end up hurting each other.”

“Relationships aren’t meant to be perfect.  They’re meant to be hard.  The messy parts are how you know it matters.”

“Well, maybe I want to preserve those good memories and be rid of the rest.”

Ben frowns, he doesn’t seem to understand.  “I’m sorry, Kurt.”

“Well…”

“Do you miss him?”

Kurt doesn’t reply, only faintly smiles into his drink.

_Every fucking day._

The lights flicker a little, which makes a nice segue into a story about how Rachel used to think the loft was haunted.  And gratefully, the subject of ex-fiances and broken engagements is dropped.   

They talk for a little while longer, but it’s a tad stiffer than before.  As they wrap up, and Ben pays the bill, he places his hand on the small of Kurt’s back and offers his room to crash.  Kurt’s not quite sure if it’s a proposition or not, but between the alcohol and the rain, there’s a part of him that might just be open to the possibility.  It’d be nice to be held again, feel secure in someone’s arms.  But it’s late, and they have rehearsal in the morning, and Kurt isn’t quite daring enough to find out what Ben has to offer.  He thanks him for the lovely night and heads home.  

As walks to his apartment, there’s a particularly loud clap of thunder.  He thinks of Buddha, happy that he got a strike, and smiles.  

 

***

 

It’s a week before the play’s opening night, and all is well -- or as well as it could be.  Prince Charming has had two distinctive meltdowns, one of the Dwarves literally broke his leg, and every night the director threatens to cancel the show (even if he doesn’t really mean it) but Kurt feels ready.  Ready  to be in front of an audience again, to perform, to get lost being someone else entirely.  Even if he still isn’t thrilled about the character and his choices, he knows he’s giving the best of his ability.  And it’s been nice, in an odd way, to let go and embody someone who isn’t himself.  It’s like making an escape, and it’s welcome.  

Ben, however, has grown distant and quiet during the last week.  He’s on the phone between scenes, and they don’t seem to be happy phone calls.  Kurt, for the most part, keeps his distance.  But after a particularly hard afternoon three days before opening night, where Ben locks himself in one of the theater offices and screams into the phone, Kurt invites Ben to his apartment. Ben obliges.  

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kurt asks.  They sit on the couch, sipping ice tea that Kurt has made.  

“I shouldn’t have lost my temper so badly,” Ben says.  He plays with the condensation on the glass, but doesn’t drink.  “I’m sure you all could hear me.”

“Oh, well, we all heard something,” Kurt says, trying to keep it light, but knowing something deeper is going on.  

Ben takes a long sip of the tea, then sets it down on the coffee table.  “I have a daughter,” he admits.  

Kurt flinches.   “Oh, I--” He had not seen that coming nor does he know what to say.  

“Kyle and I have a daughter.  She’s ten.  She’s a good kid.  I didn’t mention it because she’s part of reality.  And maybe I’ve been enjoying this little bubble too much,” Ben gives him a resigned look.  “I’ve talked to her every night I’ve been out here.  Naturally, she doesn’t understand why her daddy has been gone for months.  But she’s a tough kid.  Kyle, though.  God.  He’s threatening to go to court to get sole custody if I don’t come back soon.  He won’t actually do it, but he’s pissed that I took off without staying to clean up any of the mess.  And I get it.  He deserves to be mad.  But I needed some time.  Some time to think, you know?”

Kurt knows.  Kurt understands all too well, even if he didn’t fly across the country to try to figure things out.  Sometimes you need space, and time, and an opportunity to be on your own and think.  He gets it.  He really does.  

“I’m sorry about all of this,” Kurt says.  He awkwardly rubs Ben’s shoulder, as if the gesture will help ease the rough situation.

“It’ll be fine,” Ben says softly.  He looks Kurt in the eye, and there’s a neediness there.  “But maybe, for now…”

Ben leans in and kisses him.  It’s unexpected, but not unwelcome.  Kurt lets it continue because it’s nice, and because it’s been so long.   It’s not a passionate kiss but it’s urgent.   And he’s more than aware that not slowing down will lead to sex.  For a split second, Kurt considers halting it.  Stopping, asking Ben to leave.  But he doesn’t.  For once, he indulges, following what his body wants.  He’s allowed to feel good.  He’s allowed not to overthink every single decision.  He’s allowed, for once, to let go.

It’s not long before Kurt takes Ben to the bedroom.  They’re undressed quickly and on the bed, their bodies hurriedly sliding together together at almost an animalistic pace. And, oh, how he’s missed sex, too.  That’s just what this is; sex at its purest, sex as only the satisfaction and joy of being so physically close to someone else; sex as a release of all the tension that has been built up.   Ben’s good with his hands, stroking them both, until Kurt’s overcome by the pleasure of it.  And then it’s over, as quickly as it had started.  

Afterward, as Ben’s instinctively grabs the tissues from Kurt’s nightstand to clean up, Kurt tries to understand why he feels so strange.  He feels good and relaxed.  It hadn’t been mind-blowing sex but it hadn’t been awful either.  Pleasant seems the closest word and yet…  

Ben reaches for his clothes, slowly redressing himself.  

“Are you going?” Kurt asks, not sure what to say.

“Do you want me to stay?”  Ben’s unconcerned over the answer, but pauses anyway.  Kurt doesn’t need him to, he realizes.  He isn’t sure how to say it.  “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Kurt blushes.  “No, I have…”

Ben lets out a laugh as he resumes putting on his jeans.  “I meant like this.  Without it meaning something.”

“It always means _something_.” God, when did he start sounding like his dad.  “Only, I don’t really feel anything right now.  I mean, you were good, and it was good, I don’t regret anything, I just.  I don’t know.”

Ben takes it in stride. “Because sometimes sex _is_ just sex.  And because fairy tales aren’t real, Kurt.  Especially when one person isn’t looking for intimacy, and the other is in love with someone else.”

“Oh, I’m not--”

Ben cuts him off with a tender kiss, startlingly more intimate than the sex they just had.  “C’mon, don’t do that to yourself.  I lied to myself for a decade.  Don’t follow my footsteps.  Besides, reality always catches up to you in the end anyway.”

Kurt gives him a faint smile.  Maybe that’s true, but Kurt isn’t ready to give up his fantasy bubble.  Not yet anyway.  

Ben thanks him helping relieve his stress, which gets a chuckle from Kurt.  Then takes off, leaving Kurt alone to reflect on the evening.  And Kurt finds that he’s fine.   He really, truly, is doing alright.  And heads to bed that night feeling good about himself.

***

Performance day creeps up on Kurt quicker than he expects.   

The theater where they’re performing is not very big, and Kurt can tell that there’s not a whole lot of people in the audience.  But there’s enough.  He’s more nervous than he thought he’d be before they start, but as soon as he gets on stage and relaxes into character, he comes to life.  Kurt had nearly forgotten what it’s like, performing in front of other people.  The audience laughs and coos and reacts just as they should.  The more engaged they seem, the more Kurt’s able to play with the character, embracing it as much as he can. There are a few missteps along the way, a few fudged lines, a couple of trip ups, one missed cue, but mostly it runs smoothly. It’s a shame it’s only one night.  There are things he wishes he could do again, new things he’d would have liked to try out.  But knowing he can’t, he relishes it the best he can.  Because, god, what a rush to be on that stage again.

There are plenty of people in the audience for him.  Maggie and Darrell, of course, who bring flowers afterwards, and Maggie pinches his cheeks and tells him he was just lovely.  Isabelle, whom he invited on a whim, who is needed elsewhere after, but has time to give him a hug and tell him she’s proud.  And, of course, his dad and Carole, who flew all the way from Ohio for this little play thing.  They’ll take him out for a late dinner and he’ll have to explain to his confused dad what the play meant and Carole will laugh even if she didn’t fully understand it either.  

Kurt asks his parents to wait, however, so he can catch Ben before he leaves.  Luckily, Ben is one of the last ones to remain backstage, and Kurt’s grateful for the privacy.  They haven’t talked since that night in Kurt’s apartment, which is surprisingly okay, but still, he’d like to have just a bit more closure.  

“So, um, I guess that went well,” Kurt says.

“Yeah, it did,” Ben says with an easy smile.  “I would say we should do it again some time, but then again, some things are better off being a one time offer.”

Kurt lets out a tiny laugh and looks to the floor.  “So, are you coming to the cast party next week?”

“No, I’m leaving for LA tomorrow.”

“Oh, right.” Kurt holds himself tightly.  “I hope everything works out for you.  With all of that.”

Ben’s face tightens.  “I’m sure it will.”

“So, I guess this is it then?”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Um, I just wanted to say thank you.  For everything.  This has been a good, really good month.  And I haven’t had a really good month in a long time.”

“The feeling’s mutual.  It’s nice to head back home with a clearer head, that’s for sure.”

Kurt shuffles his feet a little.  The moment of quietness lasts a little too long, and it’d be slightly more awkward if Kurt had anything more to say than goodbye.

Kurt turns to leave but before he does, Ben stops him, and pulls him in for a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth.  “I hope everything works out for you, too, Kurt.”  

They slowly part, and Kurt gives Ben’s hand a squeeze before he leaves.  There’s a good chance they may never meet again, but that’s okay. Kurt feels good about himself, about life, about the world around him. For the first time in so long, Kurt feels like he’s finally headed in the right direction.  

The fairy tale is over.  But real life can begin.


	7. Blackbird

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_  
_All your life_  
_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

 

**August 2013**

“Blaine where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“Washington Heights is not anywhere near Bushwick.”

“Hold on we’re almost there.  It’s on the second floor.”

Blaine fumbles with some keys, and unlocks a door to an apartment Kurt had never been to.  For a second, Kurt wonders if Blaine had rented apartment for them without him knowing and he’s equally annoyed and curious.  But when Blaine opens the door, the tiny apartment is already filled with furniture and belongings, none of which Kurt recognizes.  Kurt shoots Blaine a questioning look.  

“So, um, Cooper knows these people--”

“Oh god…”

“No, they’re sane-ish, really.  And they need a subletter because they’re going to be in LA trying to make it as actors.  They’re staying with Cooper right now, actually.  Anyway, they said we could have the apartment for a while they’re away.  And if they make it in LA, we can have the apartment.”

Kurt follows Blaine into the apartment uneasily.  There’s not a lot of space, but it might work, though the current tenants of the apartment are extremely messy.  There’s some kind of growth on the coffee table from food left there, the floor is littered with garbage, there are weird stains on the walls. There’s a stale smell of fast food lingering throughout the apartment.  Nothing about the place feels homey.  

“What about all our stuff?” Kurt asks, inspecting a bookcase that doesn’t have any books on it, instead holding dirty socks in-between piles of paper.

“Well, it could go into storage,” Blaine says.  “Or their stuff can.  Either way, we’d have to pay for storage.  Which, I can do that. I can.  And just think--we can put the piano in that corner, and you can have a drafting table on that side, and there’s room for a small couch and the TV.  It wouldn’t look like...this.”

Blaine’s hopeful eyes don’t persuade him.  “Yeah, but the loft,” Kurt says.  “Seems like an ideal place for us.  And all our friends are there, I mean, you get to live with your boyfriend and your best friend, how awesome is that?”

“I guess I was just hoping that we could start our life together.  Right now.  Just the two of us.”  Blaine looks down, disappointed.

Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s waist and holds him close.  “Hey, we _are_ starting our life together.  It just happens to have more people in it.” The joke doesn’t lighten the mood.  “Look, I don’t want to start living our dreams in someone else’s home.  I think we have a good plan.  We get through college, living at the loft is going to save money, and then when we’re married, we can get our own apartment.  And it will be amazing.  And meanwhile, living at the loft will be like a fuller version of _Three’s Company_.”  

“Are you sure this is going to work?  If Santana comes back, that’s a lot of people in the loft.”

“It’ll be fine.” Kurt gives Blaine a reassuring kiss on the lips.  “And all our dreams will come true.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

  


**August 2014**

August is hot and sticky, and forces Kurt to leave Elliott’s air conditioner-less apartment.  He’s fine, though, going out and exploring the city.  The play received a handful of good reviews, and his part in particular had been well praised, which gives him a new bounce in his step.  He spends more time with Maggie and Darrell, who are full of life for being as old as they are.  He has lunch with Isabelle a few times, they gossip about fashion and celebrities, and she takes him to fancy restaurants he’d never go to on his own.  And school is starting soon.  After a couple of months away, he’s ready to jump into that craziness again.

For the first time in a long time -- he feels alive.  

 

***

 

Elliott comes back the second week of August, and Kurt’s ecstatic to have his friend back.   After Kurt helps him drag his stuff up to the apartment, he crashes for a good sixteen hours.  The next afternoon they sit on the couch and order pizza in.  Elliott tells Kurt for hours about his trip.  

“They’ve asked me to be a permanent member,” Elliott says, devouring a slice of pizza as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.  “God, we were all fucking sick of each other by the end, but I can’t wait to start working with them again.  The manager is in talks to do a national tour in the spring.  And maybe even a record deal.”

“Elliott, that’s fantastic!” Kurt says nudging his shoulder.  

“Oh, god, it’s crazy,” Elliott says.  “You would not believe some of the things that happened.  I barely told you half of it…”

He tells Kurt about getting high in Philadelphia, and how the drummer tried to ring the Liberty Bell, and that’s how they ended up thrown out of Independence Hall.  And how they ventured up to Maine, camping out for a few days next to the Atlantic Ocean, and skinny-dipped in the dark.  How they lost nearly a grand gambling in Atlantic City and how they got black-out trashed in Boston, where he ended up having a threesome with a girl involved.  

“It was confusing,” Elliot says, with a disgusted look on his face.  “Never again.”  

Kurt listens, captivated, as he chews his pizza, licking the grease off his fingers.  He’s happy to hear all the stories, and unlike the beginning of the summer, doesn’t feel the intense jealousy looming over him anymore.

“So, even though we really should get more than a day’s worth of a break from each other, we’re all going clubbing tonight,” Elliott says.  “A way to, uh, celebrate coming home I guess?  And, you know, you’re welcome to come with us if you like.”

“Okay, sure,” Kurt says with a shrug.  

Elliott had given the offer thinking he wouldn’t get a positive response from Kurt.  “You’re different.”  He looks at Kurt carefully.  “You’re not the same as I left you.”

Kurt tries to be coy but can’t help the twitch of a grin on his lips.  “I guess all the alone time wasn’t so bad.”

Elliott raises an eyebrow.  “You had sex.”

Kurt’s jaw drops.  “How are you so magical?”

“So, did you and Blaine…”

Kurt’s face falls.  There’s a twinge in his stomach, but it isn’t nearly as bad as it used to be.  “No,” he says quietly.  “Just a guy. It was nice but it was a one time thing, and we both knew that.”

Elliott’s staring at him in disbelief.  “Who are you, and what have you done with Kurt Hummel?”

Kurt’s cheeks redden a little, but smiles at the memory and takes another bite of pizza without answering the question.  

 

Kurt does go out with Elliott that night, and unlike last time, feels more comfortable being among people.  While Elliott finds his band, Kurt finds the dance floor, and let’s himself be free with the music.  There are a few guys--a few cute guys even--who dance with him.  He flirts back a little, batting his eyes and wiggling his hips.  He delights in the attention but knows his limits, and at the end of the night he’ll go home on his own.  He knows what he wants, and what he wants is not a cheap hook up in a club bathroom.   He wants something more, and when he comes home that night, wonders if he’s ready to take that step forward.  

 

***

 

“I think I’m ready to start dating again,” Kurt says, a few evenings later.  Kurt’s on the couch with his laptop on his lap, tabs of three different dating websites open.  He’s determining which one he’d like to try.  Tinder isn’t his first choice, but it’s not like he has spare money to spend on this, and Tinder is free.

Elliott looks up from his guitar magazine and takes a swig of beer from his bottle.  “Really?”

“I haven’t dated anyone out of respect to Blaine,” Kurt says.  “But I think it’s been enough time.  And I think it would be nice to be in a relationship again.”

Elliott raises both his eyebrows.  “Kurt, while I’m all about you going out and seizing the world, have you dealt with any of your baggage?  You were engaged, remember?”

Kurt clenches his jaw.  He’s done thinking about Blaine.  He’s moving forward with the rest of his life, it’s time his love life catches up.  “It’s not going to hurt to see what’s out there.”

Elliott nods, though remains unconvinced.  “Okay….”

***

 

The next day, after lunch, Kurt downloads the Tinder app.  It takes him a good hour to set up his profile, scrolling through old photos on his phone, and experimenting in real time with a photo that he likes enough to use as his icon.  Writing and rewriting all of his information so that he sounds like a datable person, and not a creeper.  Most importantly, he has to specify what he’s looking for in a date.  What does he want?  Well -- he’s looking for a relationship--that’s important.  He’d like someone good-looking, but not vain, someone who understands personal hygiene and has at least a decent sense of fashion.  Someone he can talk to for hours, and watch TV with.  Someone who will go out to shows and movies. He must like musicals.  That’s important.  It’d be nice if he could sing.  Someone who’s kind and charming, who will make him laugh and cheer him up at the end of the day.  Someone who will…

Is he being too specific? Tinder won’t let him be that specific anyway.  Fine, preferably someone who doesn’t have dark, curly hair.

Ten minutes later, he receives his first message.  He excitedly opens it to find a very large dick pointed at him.  He sits there, stunned for a moment, before deleting it, then checks his settings to see if specified ‘wants a relationship’.  Yup.  What the…?

He goes out shopping with Elliott, and afterwards, while he’s cooking dinner, he comes back to the app again.  Ten more messages!  His excitement wears off quickly.  Dick, dick, dick, dick, boobs (huh?), dick, dick...and one message wanting to know if he’s interested in role-playing as a woman.  Kurt closes the app, deflated, but holds on to the idea that maybe, possibly, there’s someone out there for him.

 

***

 

Kurt comes home one afternoon to find the want ads of the newspaper open on the kitchen table. Elliot's out. It might be an accident. The next day Kurt bumps into Elliot and his friend Jason in line for coffee.

"Jason was just saying that his friend has a room uptown..."

Kurt nods, and plasters a smile.  He knows what Elliott is trying to subtly hint at.  It’s time for him to find a new place.  

The agreement originally had been that Kurt could stay as long as he liked, with the condition that he’d start looking for places at the end of the summer.   As much as he knows Elliott doesn’t really mind Kurt as a roommate, it was always supposed to be a temporary fix.  And with Elliott’s return, the apartment does seem smaller than it did when Kurt lived alone.  And truth be told, as fond as Kurt is for the tiny place, he’s ready to spread his wings a little more.  Not to mention if Elliott does go on a national tour, there’s a good possibility he’ll be giving up the apartment--and Kurt can’t afford the place on his own.

Apartment hunting in New York City, however, is as awful as ever.  There are some gorgeous yet tiny apartments available in lower Manhattan -- for a price so astronomical, Kurt can never dream of making that much.  Kurt can’t believe Mercedes was able to live in that brownstone for a while.  There are some much cheaper places outside the city, but they’re either in shady areas or so far away from school the commute would every day would take forever.  He contemplates looking for roommates.  Elliott has a few friends that are available, but while they’re nice, they aren’t who he wants to share his space with.  The idea of finding strangers to live with feels like an even worse idea.

The apartment in Washington Heights that Blaine had found crosses his mind.  They’re too much for his student loans to cover but he now wishes they had taken it when they had the chance.  And he can’t help but daydream about what it would be like to have that lovely apartment to decorate all to himself--his desk and drafting board in one corner, a piano to practice at, little plants lining the windowsills.  It wouldn’t have to be big, just enough room for all of this things, to feel comfy and cozy.  

In the end, he puts himself on the waiting list of NYADA’s rent controlled apartments.  They aren’t much, and the idea of living in the middle of NYADA’s student population feels a little overwhelming.  But it is a roof over his head.  

 

***

Kurt receives a message from a Blaine A. in his Tinder message box. His heart leaps to his throat and his stomach twists as he opens it, only to find that this is a Blaine Andrews from Queens, who loves mountain hiking and bad reality television, and is available for one-night thing if Kurt’s interested.  Idiot, Kurt berates himself as he deletes the message.  He’s glad no one’s there to see him blush.  Of course it wasn’t Blaine.  Still, the idea dawns on him that Blaine could be on Tinder as well.

He knows he shouldn’t, but curiosity gets the better of him, and he searches Blaine’s name in the database.  No results are found.  He isn’t sure if he’s relieved or disappointed.  

For the first time, it occurs to him that Blaine might be already dating, too.  

No, no, he argues with his nagging head voice, it’s too early for Blaine.  He didn’t date anyone last time they broke up.  Besides, he’s back in Ohio right now, and who could possibly be there….

_Sebastian Smythe_

No, no, no, no, nope.  He can’t help it, but he gets an image of Blaine holding Sebastian, kissing him, being with him.  It nearly makes him throw up.  

He doesn’t believe in a god, but that evening he prays to every known deity to man for Blaine not to be hooking up with Sebastian.  He knows it’s not fair.  He knows he no longer has any claim to Blaine.  But god, he can’t think of anything worse than Sebastian Smythe being Blaine’s rebound.

 

***

 

A few weeks before school starts, Kurt meets with his academic advisor.  He learns that in the third year, he can opt to do a work study program.  It only takes a few weeks to figure out, but his plan is to take the semester to do a full-fledged production of his stage version of _The Real Housewives_ , using the Lexington Retirement Home as the cast.  The retirement home gives him an internship as well, and he talks Elliott’s ear off for a week about his upcoming school plans.  

He decides to take a few extra classes, too; an advanced acting class that’s required for juniors, vocal lessons to keep from getting rusty, and a business of theater class recommended by his advisor, who thinks that while Kurt’s love is acting, he shows enough interest in the production side to at least see if anything interests him.  

Spending more time on campus means he’s bound to run into people he knows.  And he does.  

“Kurt Hummel, how are you?” a girl named Julie, who had been in his mime class last year, runs up to hug him, and kiss his cheeks, as if they were long lost best friends.  

He stiffens, not sure how to respond, and waits patiently for her to back up.  “Um, hi, Julie.  How was your summer?”

“Oh, god, boring,” she says.  “I spent all summer in Cancun.  It sounds nice, sure, but after a while all that sun starts to fry your brain.”

“Ah, I’m sure.”

“So, hey, I did catch Rachel Berry’s TV pilot.  What a trainwreck.  Is she coming back to school next year?  She probably should.  Man, it was awful.”

Kurt shakes his head, not liking the uncomfortable turn in the conversation.  “You know what, I haven’t talked to her much.”  He takes a step back.

“Oh, that’s too bad, I thought you guys were total BFF,” she says.  “Oh, hey, how’s Blaine? Please tell me you guys are coming to my back to school party at the end of the month.  Blaine’s so awesome.  He’s got the cutest little nose.  Hey, can I be invited to the wedding?”

Kurt chokes out a laugh. How did she miss all of the drama last spring? It doesn’t matter--he excuses himself, saying he has to get to his job, and leaves Julie standing there looking confused.  

He decides that this year, he’ll focus all of his efforts on school work.  He can’t avoid the entirety of the NYADA student population, but if he can stay low key, he can avoid more awkward conversations.

 

***

 

The online dating becomes tedious.  There are a few guys who message him that seem okay, that have possibility, but after a few exchanges, they all begin to peter out.

There’s Kenny, who’s super cute, then turns super creepy when he mentions that his mom likes to come with him on dates to make sure he’s picking good ones.  Then Tom who’s really friendly and who is really into birds.  Like--super into them.  Kurt mentions that he had a pet canary once.  Apparently, canaries are unworthy, because Tom doesn’t message him back after that.  And then there’s Austin, who is really nice and awesome.  But then he mentions casually that Beyonce is overrated.  And Kurt just can’t let it continue.

Kurt scrolls endlessly through photos of men--to the point where they’re all beginning to look the same.  Sure, there are plenty of attractive guys in the mix, but no one jumps out at him.  Nothing in any of the profiles catch more than a fleeting interest.  Not a single one of these guys captures his attention.  

He becomes antsy about it, as if he’s hungry but when he looks in the fridge, there’s nothing to eat.  He decides maybe he should put Tinder on hold for a while.  

 

***

 

“Kurt, it’s Isabelle,” Kurt listens to the voice message on his phone during his break, not sure why she’s calling him in the middle of a work day.  “I have some exciting news for you.  Are you sitting down, you should be.  Well, I have a job for you.  Well, maybe job isn’t the right way to describe it.  More like, an off-shoot of your original internship.  Anyway, it would be---Lucy? Lucy! I said no buckles on that, it looks tacky.  Yes, yes it does---sorry, Kurt, I could use someone to help me keep up with celebrity trends, who’s wearing what on the red carpet, day to day, all of it.  And basically, I would just need a blog post from you once a week catching us up on it.  And we could pay you a small sum for each post.  You’d be part of the Vogue.com writing team.  How does that sound?  Give me a call and let me know what you think.”

Kurt nearly lets out a squee, and frantically texts back yes, he would most definitely do it.  It’ll be the easiest job he’s ever had.  Isabelle’s quick to respond, smiley emojis and all, telling him to come visit her in his office so they can celebrate with champagne and get all the paperwork in order.  

“Kurt, get your ass back to work,” Gunther calls from his office.

Kurt then makes a split second decision.  He’s had enough of this place, and there’s no reason, with all the good things going on his life, that he needs to endure this awful work environment. He takes off his apron and nametag and drops them on Gunther’s desk.  

“I quit,” he says firmly.  

Gunther tilts his head, confused.  “You can’t quit.  We have a birthday party for fifty 12-year-olds lined up for tonight.

“Well, maybe you can sing them happy birthday.  I’m done.”

And with that, he leaves the restaurant before he loses his gumption.  He’s a bit shaky from doing something on such a whim, but he doesn’t regret his decision for one second.  Why keep something that’s dragging him down when he might finally be going places in the world?

 

***

 

“I’m going to try speed dating,” Kurt tells Elliott, mustering some enthusiasm, even if he’s not truly excited about the idea.  

“Are you, huh?” Elliott finds it humorous but tries to downplay his laughter.

“I saw an ad about it on one of the campus boards,” Kurt explains.  “I’m not having any luck with online dating, so why not use the old fashioned approach?”

“Buy a single minute of forced interaction, sans alcohol?  Sure, Kurt.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of wonderful guys just waiting for me to meet them.  C’mon, how bad could it be?”

“Honestly, I think you’re trying too hard,” Elliott says. “What happened to wanting some space to yourself?  

“I still want that,” Kurt says.  “But, I’m allowed to want a little romance in my life, too, aren’t I?”

“Well…” Elliot trails off, opting to not go down that train of thought.

Speed dating ends up far worse than he imagined it would be.  Lots of mediocre to downright bad choices, lots of uninteresting and dull and badly dressed choices.  And that psychic.  God, he tries not to think about the psychic.  When Kurt returns home, he avoids Elliott’s I-told-you-so glance and heads straight for his room.

 

***

 

He spends more time with Maggie and Darrell, not just because of school, but because it gives he and Elliott some space and they always end up spending the afternoons talking about old-school Broadway gossip.  But one evening, not knowing the history between he and Kurt, Darrell goes on about his grandson.  He even shows pictures of Ben with his daughter (a sweet little girl who looks so much like him) and Ben already has his arm around another guy.  According to Darrell, they’re already moving in together after a few weeks because it just felt right.  And when you know, you just know, Darrell says as he grabs Maggie’s hand.

Kurt remains polite about it, but can’t help but begrudge his own situation.  Why is dating for him so hard?  Is he too picky? Is he not looking in the right places? Is he going to end up like the ladies on _Sex and the City_ and destined to go through one bad relationship after another?  All the other aspects of his life finally seem to be clicking into place.  Why can’t his romantic life be the same?

 

***

 

He’s about ready to swear off Tinder when he gets a message from a guy named Ricardo.  Ricardo’s decently attractive, and talks a lot about fashion and musicals and is incredibly enthusiastic when Kurt mentions he’s writing a stage adaption of _Real Housewives_ .  They stay up late a few nights chatting away online.  Ricardo is relatively easy to talk to, sweet and kind, and is the first person on the dating site to actually engage in an intelligent conversation.  He’ll even forgive Ricardo his distaste for _The Golden Girls_.  

Then Ricardo asks him on a real date.  

Kurt hesitates before replying.  He has a few excuses in mind, busy with Maggie, with Elliott, with school, with the blog… but they’re all hollow.   He’s just scared.  Because this is his first real date in a long, long time.  What does he wear?  How is he supposed to act? Will they start off as friends, will Ricardo expect more from him, so many questions swirl in his head.  What if this is really the beginning of something new?  It’s both exciting and terrifying.  Because after all the talk about moving on, this is the start of actually doing it.  And moving on means leaving the past behind him.  Is he really ready to do that?

He agrees to the date, hitting send before he can talk himself out of it.  Ricardo is a great guy, there’s nothing Kurt should be worried about.

What’s the worst that could happen?

 

***

 

There’s a new bar down the street, where Elliott’s band, Black Metal Daisy, have a gig.  Elliott casually invites Kurt, not expecting a positive response, but Kurt agrees to go. He’s never heard Black Metal Daisy play, and anyway he’s been more adventurous lately.  The band ends up being a little too heavy metal for Kurt’s taste, but they’re good with ‘80s covers.  Elliott convinces even them to let Kurt join in a set so they can have a Pamela Lansbury reunion, singing metal renditions of the Madonna classics “Like a Virgin”, “Vogue”, and “Into the Groove”.

Afterwards, when a band named MeatKiss takes the floor, Elliott and Kurt sit at the bar talking.  

“So, I have this date in a few days,” Kurt says, picking at the bowl of peanuts.  

“As you’ve mentioned a few times,” Elliott says.  “And every time you do you look like you’re about to be sick.”

“I’m a little on edge about it.” Elliott’s ordered him some drink that has a tad more alcohol than fruit and sugar he prefers, but it doesn’t cut down on his nerves.

“Why? You’re awesome Kurt, and any guy who doesn’t see that needs his head checked.”

“It’s not that.  It’s just I’ve been wanting to do this for so long, but now that I actually am it feels, I don’t know, overwhelming.  And I have this strange feeling about it.”

Elliott narrows his eyes, confused.  “You afraid he’s going to be a serial killer or something?”

“No,” Kurt shakes his head and lets out a little laugh.  “No, just that for the first time in a long time I feel confident and alive and that I finally have a handle on where my life is going.  And maybe that one night fling last month was easy because I knew exactly what it was but this? This could be the start of something real. Something long term.  And maybe I’m not as ready as I thought I was.”

Elliott gives him a sidelong look.  “You know, not everything has to be zero to sixty like you and Blaine used to be.  If it works, great! If it doesn’t, you’re allowed to move on.  But you don’t owe this guy anything more than a simple date.  So stop overthinking and enjoy it, okay?

“Okay.” Kurt let’s out a sigh.  Easier said than done.  

 

***

 

Ricardo asks to meet him at Myrtle’s Cafe.  It isn’t until the day of the date that Kurt finds out it’s not the Myrtle’s Cafe in Manhattan.  It’s the one in Brooklyn.  It’s the one where he and Blaine broke up.

He almost cancels.  

He’s there a little early, having talked himself into it the entire way.  It’ll be nice to finally meet Ricardo.  He’s such a good guy, and they’ve had such a nice time getting to know each other.  This should be easy.  He gets a table and waits.

He tries not to think about it. He really does.  But he can’t help it.  

That last conversation he and Blaine had together.  That juvenile and silly fight.  He remembers how mad he had been, about the stupid little things.  But that’s all they are now.  When he thinks about it, when he really replays the conversation, everything that had bothered him had been so petty and small.  Why didn’t he just tell Blaine he wanted to slow down?  Why did he let himself be miserable about it for so long?  Why didn’t they just take that damn apartment in Washington Heights that had rooms and walls and doors to slam if they needed to?  

He checks his watch.  Ricardo’s running late.  The waitress asks if he’d like to order, but he’ll wait.  But the more he waits.  The more he thinks.  

It’s the day after Labor Day he realizes.  If things had progressed the way they were supposed to over the summer he and Blaine would be married right now.  Heading out on their honeymoon.  Moving into a new apartment.  Building their life together.  His heart races at the thought.  The more he thinks about it, the more perfect it sounds.  

Why did he break it off again? Because of a few silly issues they could have talked through? Because they were too young?  Maybe they were, but they would have been young and happy together.  

Oh.

Oh god.

The rest of that final conversation comes back crystal clear.  Blaine said he would never forgive him.  He hadn’t been just hurt, he had been angry.  And Blaine hasn’t talked to him for almost six months.  He completely removed himself from Kurt’s life permanently.

Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god...

He doesn’t want to be here on a date with Ricardo.  He wants to be married to Blaine, starting their life together.  

The reality of it all hits him all at once, and he suddenly feels nauseous and shaky. There’s a sharp pain in his heart as he begins to cry.  His head spins as everything connects into place.  

Blaine’s the love of his life.

And he fucked it up.  


	8. Being Alive

_Somebody need me too much_  
_Somebody know me too well_  
_Somebody pull me up short_  
_And put me through hell_  
_And give me support_  
_For being alive_  
_Make me alive_

 

**September 2011**

It’s Friday.  Thank god it’s Friday.  First week of school, and Kurt’s senior year has already been grueling.  He has a massive amount of homework.  Isn’t senior year supposed to be slack off time?  The NYADA mixer was a downer.  Having to pick up Rachel emotionally leaves little for himself. And he’s decided to run for Student Body President.  Well, they voted him Prom Queen, so why not? Add afterschool Booty Camp, and god, he’s exhausted.  But there is one bright spot.  One glorious, amazing, dark-haired wonder--the silver lining of the week.  

Blaine transferred.  

The one thing Kurt missed after coming back to McKinley had been spending his days, as well as his evenings, with Blaine.  But that’s changed.  And now his senior year gets to be magical--no matter what is thrown at him.  

They’re at Blaine’s house.  With Blaine’s parents continuing their tradition of being at some social obligations, and with Kurt’s family dinners less frequent than they used to be, they continue to have their routine Friday evening alone.  It’s often the highlight of Kurt’s week.   

They head into Blaine’s room, throwing their bags at the foot of the desk.  Blaine’s Warbler blazer is hanging on the chair.  Kurt touches the thick fabric fondly, though wonders why it’s still out.  Is Blaine really okay about leaving Dalton behind?

“So, how did the Warblers take it when you said you were leaving?” Kurt asks.  He tries to play it light, but Blaine’s quickly onto him.  

“You know, they were sad to see me go, but they understood.”  He comes in close, gives Kurt a peck on the lips, then heads to the dresser.  “I don’t regret it.  If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I know, I just want to make sure.”

Blaine grins.  “I’d follow you anywhere, you know.”

Kurt’s cheeks redden.  He stares at the floor and kicks the base of Blaine’s desk chair.  He never knows how to respond when Blaine says things like that.  

“What do you want to do tonight?” Blaine asks.  He opens the top dresser drawer and begins rummaging around.

“I don’t know, watch a movie?” Kurt’s mind, however, is most definitely not on a movie.  

Blaine’s being completely distracting as he pulls off his grubby rehearsal shirt.  Kurt’s seen Blaine without a shirt dozen of times now, but that doesn’t mean Kurt’s used to the sight.  He still feels as though he shouldn’t be looking at the muscles in Blaine’s arms, his chest, the trail of hair that leads down.  It’s hot in Blaine’s room.  Why is it always so hot in Blaine’s room?

“Should I go wait in the living room?”

“You know I don’t mind you watching me change.”

“I know but--”  But Kurt doesn’t have a response.  Not when Blaine’s looking at him with those dark eyes.  

Blaine just laughs as he puts on an old t-shirt.  “C’mon, let’s go watch a movie,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.  

None of the movies in Blaine’s house really interest Kurt, so they put in a superhero movie they’ve both seen a hundred times.  They get comfortable rather quickly, Kurt lying longways on the couch with Blaine snuggled up next to him.  They only make it ten minutes into the move before Blaine becomes distracted by the zipper that runs over the shoulder on Kurt’s sweater.

“You know this is my favorite sweater of yours,” Blaine says.  He unzips the sweater, peppering kisses along Kurt’s shoulder as it’s slowly revealed.  

“It’s a workout sweater.”

“It’s a workout sweater I fantasize about.”

“Blaine!”

Blaine shifts up a little, and begins to kiss him.  And, god, yes, kissing is what they should be doing.  Kurt doesn’t know why they even bother with the pretense of movies anymore on Friday nights.  

Kissing is wonderful.  Kissing is easy, and relaxing, and fun, and after all these months of practice something they know well.  Kurt knows what Blaine likes; a little nibble of his bottom lip, or a tease of his tongue before a deep kiss, and Blaine just melts.  Sometimes it’s a game between the two of them, to see who can make the other one feel lost and drunk on love first.  Blaine wins a lot, but Kurt tries.  

This night, however, Blaine seems a little needier than usual.  Their makeout is a little sloppier, hurried and deep, and driven by Blaine as if they’re going other places.  

Blaine pulls away for a moment so to sit up, then throws a leg over Kurt so that he’s straddling Kurt’s hips and hovering over him.  

“Is this okay?” Blaine asks.

Kurt nods slowly.  He wants Blaine’s touch, that’s a constant fact.  But they usually take things slow.   They’ve talked about some things, and have made some rules, and they’re both aware of the usual boundaries.  Blaine’s definitely pushing those boundaries tonight.  Kurt isn’t sure how far he wants to go, but when Blaine begins sucking kisses on his neck, he doesn’t want to stop either.  

Blaine shifts a little and lowers his hips, and then Kurt feels it.  For a second it freaks him out, Blaine’s erection lined up against his.  This is definitely a new thing.  But then Blaine slowly begins to rock his hips and the friction between the two of them is dizzying.  Kurt, not sure quite how to handle the overwhelming pleasure, let’s Blaine take control.  The kisses become deeper, the rhythm of their hips faster, and if they don’t slow down, Kurt’s going to come in his pants.  

BOOM! There’s an explosion on the TV that pulls Kurt’s attention.  The music is jarring, the characters are screaming, there’s rubble and carnage on the screen.  It’s wrong.  The whole atmosphere is wrong.  He doesn’t want his first time with Blaine to be like this.  He had always pictured with so much more romance; soft music, dim lights, a more comfortable place to spread out on.  They’d take the time to explore each other, enjoy each other, be comfortable learning all the new things they’ve never known about each other.  Not this.  This is too fast, too unplanned, too much.  

“Blaine, stop,” Kurt pushes at his shoulder.  “Please, stop.”

Blaine pulls off him completely, stares at him bewildered and embarrassed for a moment, then hurries off the couch and out of the room entirely.  

Kurt lies on the couch for a moment, frustrated.  This is not how he wanted the night to go.  

As soon as he’s cooled down a little, he gets up to find Blaine.  Blaine’s in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, sipping from a bottled water.  He looks a little frustrated, making Kurt a little hesitant to approach.  

“It’s not you, it’s me,” Blaine says, as if reading Kurt’s mind.  He takes a long sip of water. “I needed to cool off,”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says, remaining in the doorway.  

“Don’t be,” Blaine says.  His cheeks are still bright red, but his expression softens, even if he’s having a hard time looking Kurt in the eye.  “I shouldn’t have pushed.”  

“You didn’t do anything that I didn’t want.  I just--”  Kurt lets out a sigh.  Why did everything have to feel so complicated?  “I need to feel ready, for everything, and I didn’t.”

Blaine’s face shifts to sadness.  “I want to be with you Kurt.  And not just for the feel good part.  I want to be able to show you how much I love you.”

“Oh, Blaine.” Kurt comes to him, takes his water and sets it on the counter, then laces their fingers together.  “I want to be with you, too.  Really, I do.  And we will be.  I’m just--a little slower at this.”

Blaine gives him a faint smile.  “Okay.”

“I love you so much,” Kurt says, resting his forehead against Blaine’s.  And it’s so scary to him, just how big this love feels.  Blaine is everything, and trusting that feeling is so hard.  

“I love you, too.” Blaine’s eyes are warm and welcoming.  

Kurt moves in for a kiss.  It’s tender and comforting, and Kurt feels so safe as they wrap their arms around each other, pressing their bodies close.  This is what feels right, he thinks as they continue to trade slow, meaningful kisses.  This is perfect, and he knows the time’s coming soon -- that he’ll be secure enough to share everything with Blaine.  

 

**September 2014**

He doesn’t make it but a few steps into the apartment after the cancelled date before breaking down crying.  He sobs uncontrollably for a few minutes before calming down enough to make it to the couch, then curls up in a ball, wraps a blanket around him, and cries more.   He can’t seem to move, can’t seem to think clearly.  He can’t seem to concentrate on anything other than how much he hurts.  All he wants to do is lay there and cry.

Elliott comes home, thankfully not too much later. He immediately drops his stuff at the entrance.  “Kurt, are you okay?”

Kurt tries to sit up, but the weight of the universe seems to be pushing down on him.  “It-it’s Blaine,” he manages through sobs.  “W-we broke up.  It’s over and i-it’s all m-my fault.”  

Elliott almost looks relieved as he joins Kurt on the couch. “Oh, honey,” he says, scooping Kurt up in his arms.  “I wondered when you were going to feel it.”

 

***

 

The next three days are hell.  

It feels as though a rock has been placed on his chest.  It’s heavy and painful and constricting his ability to function like a normal human being.  He skips his classes, ignores his obligations, and spends most of the time on his bed, feeling like a zombie-pod person when he’s not crying.  He hasn’t even changed his clothes -- wearing the same pair of sweatpants and hoodie for days on end.  Elliott tries to get him to eat.  He manages tea and soup and some crackers, but can’t stomach much else.  He doesn’t feel like eating.  He can’t sleep.  TV isn’t being much of a distraction.  All he’s doing is existing.  

His mind is stuck in an endless loop, where he replays everything from the final months of their relationship.  A million little “what-ifs” scenarios pop out at him, how he could have handled the situation better, what he could have said, how all of it could have been prevented.  He chides himself for not being able to see all of it earlier, when he still had a chance to fix things. There were problems, clear signs that things were headed in a downward spiral but he chose not to address them.  He chose to be stubborn and ignore what was right in front of him.  He chose the path he was on now.  There’s no rewind button, no start again from the top.  You make choices and deal with the consequences.  

The first breakup felt like being shattered, his world being broken into tiny, little pieces that he no longer recognized, and that he would spend a good six months trying to piece back together.  But through that, even though the darkest parts of that, there had been the knowledge that Blaine was still fighting for them.  He hadn’t given up, even though reconciliation seemed impossible.  There had always been hope.

 This breakup has made him numb to the world, trapped and frozen inside his head.  Blaine hadn’t just been broken-hearted last time Kurt had seen him.  He had been angry.  He said he’d never forgive Kurt.  There isn’t any hope this time around.  Blaine hasn’t talked to him in his months.  There have been no signs that he even exists in Kurt’s world.  He’s gone, and it’s done.  And that’s the hardest thing.  The thing that despite points all pointing to it being over, to the fact that Blaine will probably never talk to him again, Kurt’s struggling with accepting.  

He remains on his bed, wishing he could whither away so he no longer had to face the intensity of the pain.  

 

***

 

On the fourth day, emotionally exhausted, he manages to make it from the bed to the couch and snacks on ice cream for a majority of the day.  He ends up watching a queue of nature documentaries on his laptop, because they require the least amount of thinking, and the landscapes are beautiful and uplifting to look at.  

“I see you’ve made it to the dessert stage of grief,” Elliott tries to joke when he gets home that day.  But Kurt barely makes acknowledgment that he’s even in the room.  Elliott’s kindly been keeping his distance, making sure Kurt functioned enough to stay alive, but he hasn’t pushed it.  He sits down on the couch with Kurt, takes away the laptop, and gives him a concerned look.  “In all honesty, I’m beginning to get a little worried.  I think maybe we should talk about it.”

Kurt half sits up.  “I don’t want to talk about it.  I don’t want to think about it.  All I’ve done is think about it, and thinking doesn’t seem to change anything.  I just want it all to go away.”

“Kurt!”

“No, I don’t mean--” With a heavy sigh, he manages to sit up all the way. “You know what it’s like?  It’s like I stubbed my toe.  And my toe hurt. A lot.  And I tried to ignore the pain in my toe, but after a while it got so bad that something had to be done.  So, instead of taking care of my toe, I chopped off my foot.  Do you know how much worse chopping off your foot feels? Of course it took me four months to figure out how much it fucking hurts.  And now I don’t have a foot.  Just a bloody stump.  I shouldn’t have cut it off.  I could have fixed the toe.”

Elliott can only stare.  “That is...quite a metaphor.”

For the first time in days, Kurt elicits a chuckle.  “Yeah, I know.  But it’s how I feel.”  

“Kurt, um, I think this might be a little over my head,” Elliott admits.  “But if you’re open to the idea, I think I know someone who might be able to help.”

 

***

 

Kurt shifts in the brown, leather chair.  It’s his fourth visit to the therapist Elliott recommended, and while room is growing more comfortable, he’s still not as relaxed as he could be.  He folds and unfolds his hands as he waits.  He’s not sure why he gets nervous before these meetings, his therapist, Linda, is one of the nicest women he’s ever met.  Talking to her is relatively easy, even if opening up to someone about his issues is hard.  Still, he wishes he weren’t so uneasy every time he came into this room.  

“So, last time we were talking about Blaine,” Linda says as she settles in for the session.  “Is that something you wanted to continue talking about?”

Kurt continues to fidget.  No, not really.  He really does not want to be talking about Blaine.  Because talking about Blaine hurts, because it makes him think about all the dumb things he’s done to get here, because it makes him think about the possibility that he and Blaine might never work things out.  But still, as Linda told him in their first session -- it’s better to talk about things than to hold them all in until he explodes.  So he tries.  

“I’ve told you most of it already,” Kurt says.  He tries to relax, but he can’t quite get there.  “And I have been thinking about it.  I wish I wasn’t always thinking about it, but…  When we got back together, I really did forgive Blaine for cheating.  I did.  We had long talks about what had happened, and I knew I could trust him.  But I wonder-- I don’t think I ever really let him back in.  Not like I could before.”  

“Well, of course not, Kurt,” Linda says kindly.  “Relationships change, they grow.  Even without the cheating, things were going to change.”

“I know,” he says.  “I don’t know if I was done healing, though.  And then with the push for the marriage and living in the loft, and everything, it was too much.  I just-- I couldn’t handle it, and I lashed out at him.  I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t…” He tries not cry, but he can feel it coming.  “I fucked it up this time.  It was my fault.  And I probably ruined the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Linda gives him a sympathetic smile. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up.  You had concerns and fears and they were completely valid.  And it takes two people to have communication problems.  Look, you guys were a young couple, and a marriage is a lot of pressure to put on a young couple.  It’s a big responsibility, and most young couples don’t have the tools to navigate it.  Especially when they’re still trying to figure out who they are.  You shouldn’t feel badly about doubts, or that you placed your needs first.  At the end of the day, you have to take care of you first.   But – I do think there may be some bigger issues here, especially now that you understand better how you feel.  It seems as though you have a hard time with intimacy, Kurt.  And that’s okay, a lot of people, a lot of men especially, have a hard time with it.  There needs to be a lot of trust, a lot of vulnerability, a lot of communication in a successful relationship, and that’s something that even older adults can have a hard time with.  Relationships are hard work, Kurt, not always sunshine and daisies and rainbows.”

Kurt nods, understanding.  “I know.  I mean, I think I really do understand that now.  I just-- I wish this didn’t hurt so much now.  Why couldn’t I have figured all of this out sooner? Why couldn’t I have understood before I hit the self-destruct button?”

 “Well, Kurt, maybe a little time and distance can help with perspective,” Linda says.  “And I don’t know Blaine, but maybe it was good for the both of you.”

“Do you think, maybe,” he plays with a string on the end of his sleeve.  “Do you think that I might be able to work all of this out with him?”

Linda sits back in her chair, thinking.  “I can’t really answer that for you.  But I will say, you need to be able to forgive yourself before you can move forward.  So, I suggest starting there.  What happened, happened.  And all you can do is try to move forward.  Once you can do that--you can do anything.”

Kurt gives her a smile.  He’s not sure why, but her words make him feel a little better.  They give him something he’s been missing for a while.  Hope.  

 

***

It’s a rainy Wednesday when he heads out to the spot.  Six months, Rachel had said.  Well, it’s six months to the day since they made that pact to meet on that corner outside the loft.  He isn’t sure why he goes -- he’s well aware that he’ll probably be the only one.  Still, he grabs an umbrella and his long coat and makes his way back to Bushwick for the first time since he moved out of the loft.  

Rachel had said they should pick the same time, early afternoon, to meet up again.  That way it would be easy to remember.  He has to wonder, as he finds that place under the tree, if anyone other than him actually remembers.  Are they thinking about it today, even if they aren’t here? Or had it been just another naive and optimistic way to hold onto things when they all knew their lives were changing.  

It’s dark and gloomy out, thankfully not particularly windy, but still sad.  It had been warm for March that day, which feels like a million years ago now; sunny and breezy and so happy.  Part of him wishes he could go back to that time -- get a second chance to do everything again.  But he knows better now.  You don’t get second chances.  Besides, he’s a different person now then he was six months ago.

He looks up towards the building behind him and wonders about the loft.  Are there new tenants there now?  Are they happy?  It hadn’t been such a bad place to live.  His memory tells him it had been horrible.  He had been so glad to leave it at the end of the lease.  Nostalgia brings back the fondness.  Either way, the past was now in the past.  

The rain doesn’t let up as he waits and waits.  And waits.

Rachel’s still in hiding.  He has no idea where she is, but she’s going through a lot, too, and he doesn’t expect her to just show up out of nowhere.  She does like to make a dramatic entrance.  Mercedes is in LA.  The tour’s over, but she’s working on her record, and the last time they had talked, she made it clear she wouldn’t be traveling again any time soon.  God knows where Brittany and Santana are.  Tina hadn’t been there that day, she probably didn’t even know about the pact. Artie’s still in the city, he supposes.  He hasn’t talked to Artie since June.  Artie doesn’t seem like the sentimental type, and most likely the last person who would remember the pact anyway.  And then Sam.  Sam’s not coming back.  He made it incredibly clear that he was done with New York when he left.  He had hated it when he lived here.  He couldn’t imagine why Sam would come back.  Only if Blaine--  

Oh, yeah.  Blaine.  

He misses his friends, all of them, dearly.  He would be more than ecstatic to see any one of them come around the corner.  But he knows why he really dragged himself halfway across the city in the pouring rain.  Because there’s the tiniest of chances that Blaine would be there.  

He doesn’t know what he had expected.  It’s not like Blaine is going to show up, giving him an eloquent declaration of love and forgiveness.  It’s not like they’d share a romantic, rom-com reunion kiss on that spot and then live happily ever after.  That’s not how real life is.  He’s just a guy, standing on a corner, waiting for absolutely nothing.  

He stands and he waits.  The nameless people on the street pass him by, all in a hurry to some kind of destination while he remains unmoving, like a statue, letting the world swirl around him.   And suddenly he feels a wash of loneliness.  The city is so big, with so many people, and he’s alone.  

But then he realizes -- he doesn’t have to be.  

 

***

 

“I’m going back to Lima,” Kurt tells Elliott later that week.  He’s already gotten out his suitcase, and is packing up the necessities. After a lot, a lot of thinking, Kurt has a plan.  And for the first time in forever, he’s energized.  Elliott leans in the doorway, amused, as Kurt scurries around the room.  “I found out from Mercedes, who’s talked to Sam, that Rachel is back in Lima.  Apparently, she and Blaine have decided to take up teaching careers, which is crazy if you ask me, but I think maybe she can help me out.  I’m going to get Blaine back. I mean, I know he probably hates me right now, but I have to tell him that I still love him and that I want him back.  If I don’t, I’ll wonder about it the rest of my life, so I have to at least try.  If nothing else for my my own peace of mind.”

Elliott lets out a soft, little chuckle.  “Of course you are.”

Kurt freezes, his eyes wide.  “You don’t think it’s going to work?”

“I think it absolutely will work, actually,” Elliott says with a fond smile.  “It’s just -- nice to see you back to your old self again.”

Kurt relaxes, the vote of confidence inspiring.  “It’s strange because I feel like a very different person in a lot of ways.  But, um, yeah, I think I am back to my old self again.”

They share a grin.  

“Also, just, thank you,” Kurt says.  “For everything.  This summer has been--  I don’t even know.  But I’m glad you’ve been here to help me through it.”

“I’m here for you, man.  Anytime.”

 

Burt picks him up at the Lima airport, grin wide, arms welcome.  “Welcome home, kiddo.”  

It’s funny, he spent a long time trying to run away from this place – and now here he is, back again.  It almost feels like a second chance, a place for him to start over again, to fix what was broken, to take the other path.  He’s a little bit scared as he hugs his dad, but Rachel is here and Blaine is here and he has a feeling that everything will be okay.  


	9. I Have Nothing

_You see through - right through the heart of me_  
_You break through my walls with the strength of your love_  
_I never knew love like I’ve known it with you_  
_Will a memory survive, one I can hold on to_

 

**October 2012**

The first light of daybreak streams through the window.  The start of a brand new, mockingly cheerful day.  It’s quiet in the loft, everyone else is still asleep, yet Kurt’s been sitting in that chair for hours now.  He can’t sleep.  God knows how exhausted he is, how grateful he would be to just slip into a world of dreams, one that wouldn’t hurt so much.  Or maybe he’s dreaming now, and at some point he gets to wake from the nightmare.  His head is foggy with thought.  He can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t anymore.  His world has been turned upside down and nothing feels as it should.

He keeps thinking, and thinking, and thinking in hopes that maybe there is an answer to this Gordian Knot.  Had it been him? Had it been Blaine? Were there signs? Of course there were signs… But he never thought Blaine would… He didn’t think Blaine could…  He can’t finish the thought because every time he dares let his mind go there, his heart breaks just a little bit more.  The illusion that his world was perfect and safe has just been shattered.  He doesn’t know if it’s something that can ever be repaired.  

He hears movement from the other side of the curtain.  He knows it’s Blaine.  He doesn’t need to see Blaine to recognize his movements, the shuffle of clothes, the heaviness of footsteps, the speed of zipping a suitcase zipper.  The sense of familiarity is a foreign concept now.  Because Blaine feels like a stranger now.  Did he ever really know him? Did they ever really know each other?

Blaine comes out from behind the curtain, jacket on, suitcase in hand.  His eyes are wide and wet, and a million things race through Kurt’s mind.  There are so many things to say, to yell, to argue, so many questions he has to ask, but he can’t even muster ‘good morning’.  Blaine’s eyes stare at him for a long while, pleading, but Kurt refuses to give into the temptation.  Instead, he turns and focuses on the wall.  

“Um, I have to catch my plane,” Blaine says.  Blaine reaches a hand out, but Kurt recoils.  “Kurt, I need you to know that I’m sorry.  I’m so, so, so sorry.  And even if you can never forgive me I just want you to know -- I love you.  I’ll always love you.”  Blaine hesitates another moment, watching for Kurt to give any kind of response, but then leaves without another word.

And for a moment, Kurt wants to go after him -- to hold him in his arms, and tell him that they can do this, they can work through everything because Kurt loves him, too.  Always. He’s paralyzed in that chair.   But he can’t.  He’s just so angry and hurt and broken.  Their relationship is over -- and he can’t see anything that could possibly bring it back.

When Blaine closes the door behind him, Kurt breaks down and cries.  

  


**October 2014**

Well, if that hadn’t been the worst ninety minutes of his life….  

Kurt stumbles back into his house much earlier than he originally anticipated.  He knew going in that  the epitome of romantic reunions wasn’t going to happen in such a downtrodden place such as Scandals, he knew he would have to make an effort if he was going to win Blaine’s heart back, but he hadn’t been expecting... _that_ .  Of all the people Blaine could be with -- Karofsky.   _Fucking Karofsky_.  His stomach is still queasy at the thought.   And after twenty minutes of crying in the bathroom, he managed to make it through the worst conversation, full of inside jokes he wasn’t a part of and small touches to the back. Every shared look between the two of them was another knife in Kurt’s heart.  He finally managed an excuse to get out of there, but Blaine knew.  Even if it hadn’t been intentional, even if Blaine had been protecting himself more than anything, Blaine knew how much Kurt had hurt.  

Maybe they’re even now, a broken heart for a broken heart.  

Or maybe the universe is simply cruel.  

His parents are in the living room when he gets back; Burt on the couch watching a football game, Carole curled up on the chair reading a book.  

Burt eyes him carefully.  “How’d it go?”

Kurt stands there dumbly, not quite sure how to respond.  He shakes his head slowly before breaking down in tears, not able to control it.  Carole’s up in a second, lovingly wrapping her arms around him, whispering to him that it’s going to be alright.  He settles into her embrace, sobbing into her shoulder.  After a minute or two, when he’s calmed down a little, she guides him over to the couch, where his dad is waiting with open arms.  He settles in next to his dad, Burt placing a comforting arm around him and holding him close.  

“You know, the Sound of Music was on a couple of months ago,” Burt says, using his free hand to grab the remote.  “Saved it on the DVR thinking Carole and I would get around to watching it, but we never did.  Should be still there.  Maybe tonight would be a good night to watch it.  Ohio State was going to lose that game anyway.”  

His dad squeezes him tight. Carole reaches for the blanket hanging on the back of the couch, and wraps him up in it.  He knows he really should go take a shower, he has to smell like bad beer and cheap cologne and whatever had been on that bathroom floor, but tucks into his dad as he turns on the musical.  He feels comforted and this is just what he needs right now.   It’s like he’s eight again, and he’s scraped his knee playing outside, and his dad is there to make him feel better.  Burt may not have a band-aid for his heart, but it’s a comfort all the same.  

“I’ll go get some hot chocolate,” Carole says with a wink.  “And maybe some cookies.”  

“Thank you,” Kurt says, a meek smile on his face.  

“Anything for you, kiddo,” she says as she pats his feet.

“Are you going to be okay?” Burt asks, once Carole has left for the kitchen.

Kurt brushes a fresh tear off his cheek.  “I don’t know,” he says heavily.  “I hope so.”

 

***

 

Kurt had never been to Homecoming.  His first year out of high school, he and Rachel decided that they were too grown up to go back -- and that New York was their home, so heading back to Lima would be like going backwards.  His second year, Blaine moved into the loft, and again, the thought was that they were moving forward in their lives.  Lima was a place in the past, a place they were trying to get away from.  Kurt never imagine he would step on McKinley school property again.  And yet, here he is.  Back on the football field, all of his old classmates around him.  Well.  Some of them.  Still, he once thought that returning to McKinley would be like returning back to high school -- with all that entailed.  

He doesn’t feel like that anymore.  When he looks around, he sees so many new people.  When did high school students look like babies?  He remembers feeling much older when he was in high school.  And it’s funny to think that maybe he wasn’t.  He definitely feels older now -- even if he doesn’t feel fully like an adult yet.  He can’t believe he and Rachel are teachers.  Teachers!  Who would have thought?

Meanwhile, Lima doesn’t seem like the dark prison that it once was.  Maybe it’s because he can leave whenever he’d like -- New York is still waiting when he’s done here. Maybe it’s because he’s there on his own free will.  He and Rachel did make a pact to make their redemptions here.  And NYADA is letting him use teaching for his internship credits this semester.  Lima is just a liminal space -- a holding pen to get from one part of his life to his next.  

But as much as he can try to deny it, Lima is still home, too.  A home, anyway.  They say you can never go home again -- but that’s not true.  You can -- you just may not be the same person as when you left.

Kurt and Rachel are walking around the bonfire when he sees them - Blaine and Karofsky, curled up in the back of a truck.  It’s been a few weeks since Kurt’s been back, this is supposed to be easier, but it’s not.  He still feels as sick as when he first saw them together.  

For a split second, Blaine catches his eye, stares at him, face blank, or maybe a little wistful, he can’t tell.  He then cuddles closer to Karofsky, which is like a twist of a knife in Kurt’s heart.  Rachel notices, and places a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  

“You know, he’s just doing this to rub it in my face,” Kurt says. “He’s mad because he thinks we poached Jane from him. He’s mad because--” He kicks the ground.

“You know Blaine's not like that,” Rachel's eyes are on Blaine. “I mean, it is his homecoming, too…”

Kurt scowls at her.  

Mercedes comes up from behind them, jovial smile on her face, and places her arms around their shoulders.  “Alright, why the long faces? We’re supposed to be having fun here.”

Rachel makes a subtle-but-not-really nudge towards Blaine.  

Mercedes rolls her eyes.  “You know what guys, we’re going to ignore all the drama tonight and just fun, okay?  We’ll go find an empty spot, and we’ll catch up on what we did over the summer -- just like old times.”

“My summer was pretty boring,” Kurt says.

Rachel launches into a soliloquy. “I was locked up for four months as a way to escape from the horrible reality that I was in the worst TV show in history and may have blown all of my career aspirations but the outdoors was nice and my therapist says that once I’m able to--”

“Okay, okay, okay, okay, shhhh…” Mercedes says laughing.  “How about I tell you about my awesome summer then.  And then we can talk about how the two of you are going to make the glee club here a functioning unit with only four kids.”

“Oh, I missed you guys.”  Kurt lets out a laugh.  Her enthusiasm is contagious.  He gives a nudge to Rachel, and they follow Mercedes to where the rest of their friends are congregated.  

As he follows her, for one night, he tries to put everything behind him, and enjoy the company of his friends.  And the fact that he’s home and it’s a welcoming place.  

 

***

 

Kurt’s going through his closet one evening, Carole King’s _Tapestry_ blaring in the background, Kurt singing all of her sad songs with her.  After running into Blaine earlier today, all he wants to do is drown his feelings in the music.  And organize his closet.  

As he does so, he finds a shoebox buried in the back.  He doesn’t have to open it to know what’s inside but he does anyway.  A flood of memories returns as he looks through the box -- all the photographs, happy moments where they were so in love with each other, the promise ring Blaine gave him that one Christmas, a mixed CD with all of _their_ songs, ticket stubs from shows they’ve seen together.  A lot of amazing moments all stored away and half-forgotten.  It makes his heart hurt so much.

The hardest thing about being back in Lima is knowing that Blaine’s around, too.  He’s so close, but yet still so far away.  He misses Blaine, and it feels so much more raw than when he was alone in New York.

He doesn’t just miss them as boyfriends or as fiances.  He doesn’t just miss holding hands or kissing or sex. (Though, god, he does miss that, too.)  He misses his favorite person, his best friend, the person he could go to for anything.  He misses being able to call Blaine up in the middle of the night about anything.  He misses the sound of his voice, his laugh, the way his nose scrunches up when he’s excited.  He misses the ridiculous amount of hair gel, and that dumb soda machine, and Batman comic books.  He misses the fact that even when Blaine drove him mad and they fought hard, at the end of the day they’d go to bed together -- and wake up the next morning, facing the world together.  

He takes the photo out of the two of them at Junior Prom together and looks on it a long while, wishing there was a way to rewind time and try again.   But as the song says... _it’s too late_.  What’s done is done.  He won’t let go of his hope, he can’t, but he knows it’ll never be the same as it was.  

He puts the photo back in the box and places the box back in the closet.  Carole King sings her final notes on the album.  Kurt gets up and hits play, starting it all over.

 

***

 

Kurt’s in the auditorium, going through the sheet music spread out on the piano and prepping for the final lesson of the week, when the door opens.  He thinks it’s Rachel, and is surprised when it’s not.  

“What do you want, Santana?” He doesn’t bother to look up at her.  “Come to make fun of me some more? I can’t imagine that there’s anything left -- you pretty much covered everything in your rant earlier.”

“Well, I am a little surprised that you’re not currently draped over this piano singing fifty-year-old songs full of angst and ennui,” she says, enjoying her own cleverness.

He begins to pack up the music.  “Nice. But I’m not really in the mood.”

“No, no, no, wait,” she grabs his arm.  “No, listen.  If you’re waiting for an apology, I’m not here to give you one.   You stomped on my proposal, and I don’t care if you think we’re all too young, had I objected during your proposal, pointing out that it was a bit over-the-top, rom-com, rainbow and unicorns gay -- I mean rose petals and bright colors? Really? It was like a scene out of _My Little Pony_.  Anyway -- you would have cut me for being the bitch that I am for interrupting.”

He refrains from rolling his eyes, because she is right.  

“No, I just need to say this, okay,” she says.  “Look, when I first broke up with Brit, I thought -- hey, there may be other people out there for me.  Maybe we’re not supposed to be together.  Maybe a high school romance is just that, and I should explore my options.  So -- I dated someone, and she dated a fish impersonator, and at the end of the day, we came around to understanding that no matter how hard we tried to stay apart, we’re perfect for each other.”

“Congratulations,” Kurt says flatly.  “I’ll give you Blaine's and my trophy for queer couple of the month.”

“Stop,” She says, holding up a hand. “Don’t be bitter -- that gets me all ragey.  What I’m trying to say is that despite the fact that I find your tragic, sappy, and overly sentimental romance with the boy wonder gag inducing -- you guys were meant for each other, too.  While your magical elfin ways drive me crazy -- you’re my family.  And, as much as it pains me to say it, I think you deserve to be happy.  So, stop clinging to this ideal of what you think is right because it’s some perfect image in a Martha Stewart magazine.  Life is messy, but worth it in the end. ”

Her sincerity catches him off-guard, but he takes it, and nudges her hip with his own.  He’d hug her, but that’s not how they work.  

“And, like, Karofsky is, like, the grossest kisser,” she says.  “Seriously, he’s all slobber and no finesse.  Just one aimed swivel of your twinkle tush, and Blaine’s bound to come running back in no time.”

Kurt laughs, a genuine, joyful laugh.  It feels good.  “I’m sorry I interrupted your proposal.  It was lovely.  You guys are great together.  Really.”

She smiles at him.  “I know.”  To his surprise, she wraps an arm around his shoulder.  “You guys are good together, too.”

He rests his head against hers.  “I know.”

When he gets home that evening, he puts on Alanis Morissette's _Jagged Little Pill_ and listens to it all the way through.  Everyone talks about how edgy and angry the album is, but there’s a lot of hope there, too.  In a strange way, he feels uplifted by it.  Even Alanis refused to see the world as an endless night.   

As he goes to bed that night, he finds the shoebox again, takes out the picture of he and Blaine at Junior Prom and sets it on his nightstand.   With all the bad memories they have, the good ones outweigh them, and he’d like to hold on to that thought.  

Head over feet.  He likes the phrase.  That’s where he is now -- feeling a little better, a little clearer.  He knows what he wants, and he knows that sometimes you just have to wait and move on with life.  But everything is going to be okay.

 

***

 

It takes most of the evening for the shock of Walter, a divorced man older than his dad, a man who had kids his age, to wear off.  But once they settle into a groove, Kurt finds that Walter is still the kind and funny guy he chatted with online.  He’s has no expectations, and is happy to enjoy dinner, while discussing old sitcoms and men’s fashion and musical flops.  Walter’s interesting and quite charming once you look past the age difference.  And at the end of the night, the part on good terms and plans to do it again soon.

The second date runs smoother, well, smoother after Sue Sylvester's strange intervention, which Walter let’s slide off his back with nothing more than a chuckle.  It does lead them into a heavier conversation though, where Walter opens up about being married, and what it’s like to figure out that you’re gay later on in life.  Kurt, in turn, talks about Blaine, and being engaged, and trying to move on from it.  He’s surprised, actually, how much easier it is to talk about Blaine now.  The pain isn’t so sharp, and having someone who has even more baggage than him?  Well, that helps, too.  Walter isn’t put off by Blaine, by Kurt’s non-admission about still having strong feelings there, but that’s the great thing about Walter.  He listens without condemnation.

At the end of the night, Walter walks Kurt to his car, like a gentleman.  And after making sure no one is around (it’s still Ohio after all) gives Kurt a nervous kiss on the lips.  It’s sweet.  Kurt, in return, gives Walter a kiss back, much deeper than the first one.  He never expected to be the one with more experience in this area, and the ability to pass it on is delightful.  The kiss is also more like a thank you than act of passion; a way to let Walter know he’s appreciated.  And, he expectes, a way to give Walter his real first kiss from another man.  Kurt’s not sure he can give anymore than that.  But Walter, taken aback by the gesture, doesn’t seem to expect more.  

He feels a little guilty, knowing that Walter is a distraction.  But, Walter seems to understand his place, and if nothing else, he has a new friend.  

 

***

 

He turns back on his Facebook account.  Walter, wanting to get more into social media, asked if he had one, and until that moment, he had forgotten about the deactivated account.  He decides to delete the new one he created -- the one that had been empty and fake, an attempt at a replacement of his life, and activates the old one.  Everything’s there, just as he left it -- and he finds the remnants of his old life staring back at him.  He doesn’t, however, delete anything.  He doesn’t want to erase his past like he once had.  It’s apart of him -- makes him who he is now.  And good memories are still good memories.  

A few days after he turns the account back on he receives a chat message, much to his surprise, from Blaine.  

 

 **Blaine:** Hey :)

 **Kurt:** Hi!

 **Blaine:** I thought maybe you had blocked me or something.  I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you had.  It’s just nice to see you on my feed again.

 **Kurt:** Oh, no, I just decided to be unplugged for a while.  You know?

 **Blaine:** Yeah…

He takes a moment and checks out Blaine’s profile.  Sure, there are a few obnoxious photos of he and Karofsky together, and god, does Karofsky like cutesy nicknames.  But he’s pleased to find that Blaine hasn’t deleted any of his older stuff either.  Hundreds of photos, links, messages they all shared -- their previous life still on display.  He finds a certain satisfaction in that.  

 

 **Blaine:** So, how’d your date go?

 **Kurt:** Oh. Walter is a nice guy.  He’s a little older but is a good guy.

 **Blaine:** That’s great.  

 **Blaine:** I should really get to bed.  

 **Blaine:** Dave is trying to do this morning work out thing to get in shape and he keeps insisting we be up at an ungodly hour in the morning.  

 **Kurt:** Yeah, I guess it is getting late.  I should probably go to bed, too.  

 **Blaine:** Nice talking to you, Kurt.

 **Kurt:** Yeah, you too.  

 **Blaine:** Night, Kurt

 **Kurt:** Night, Blaine

 

Kurt closes his laptop after Blaine signs off, not entirely sure how he feels about the exchange.  The awkwardness is apparent, and can they really go back to a time when they were just friends?   But Blaine’s in his life again, and that thought alone makes him feel warm again.  

 

***

 

When he gets out of this elevator, he’s going to murder Sue Sylvester.  How dare she lock them up against their will for her sick and twisted games.  The pranks were obnoxious when they started, but this is kidnapping, it’s got to be, among other things.  And when she finally lets them out -- though there is the possibility they may end up dying in there (he’s unsure when it comes to Sue) he’s going to find the best lawyer he can and lock her up for good.  The worst part, though, is not the weird commentary on his love life, or the creepy Sue doll, or the stifling heat.  It’s the fact that no matter how many times he’s stated directly to her that he doesn’t want to get back together with Blaine, she doesn’t listen.

It’s not that he’s lying to himself -- he’s well aware that he would take Blaine back in a heartbeat.  But he’s taking Brittany’s advice to heart (and his therapist’s, when he thinks about it).  He’s moving on, showing the world that he can have all these feelings and still function like a human being.  And most of all, Blaine’s with someone else. As much as he hates it, he can respect that if nothing else.  Besides, Sue doesn’t need to be involved in his love life, and anything to get her to back off...

He’s not sure what time it is.  The silence of the building and his fatigue suggests that it’s some time in the early morning, but without their phones, he isn’t sure.  He’s sitting against the wall, folding a sheet of paper into an airplane as he watches Blaine, sleeping beside him.  

Blaine’s still so gorgeous when he sleeps.  And as he watches Blaine breath, he notices that he’s more relaxed now, more peaceful than he had been before.  Blaine, throughout their interactions since he’s returned, has seemed more confident, more at ease with the world.  He’s still Kurt’s Blaine, only there’s something different, something new, something Kurt can’t quite place his finger on, but it’s not a bad thing.  Kurt can’t help but wonder if these months apart did them both good.  He doesn’t know Blaine’s full story, how he spent his summer.  He can only imagine it had been as tedious and painful as his own.  But the summer’s over.  And they’re sharing the same space again.  And they’re most likely different people than when they parted, but Kurt has to think that that’s for the better.  

It’s funny, once upon a time ago, they were trapped together -- in a room much bigger than this one.  It felt suffocating at the time.  Like his life had been planned out for him without his asking.  Like he had been stuck and was never going to be able to get out.  And now, here they are.  Who knows if they’re going to get out, trapped in a box, where they’re literally tripping over each other, literally having a puppet as a puppeteer.  And yet, there’s no other person he’d rather share his space with.  

He loves Blaine.  He loves Blaine with all his heart, and he knows now, just how sure of it he is.  It’s unwavering, a love that is never going to change.  And he’s not afraid of that anymore.  

He doesn’t know when they’ll get back together, or even if they will.  He doesn’t know what will happen once they’re let out of the box. He does know that they’ll continue to drive each other crazy every once in awhile, because they’re only human, and that’s what humans do.  Blaine’s imperfect, they’re imperfect -- and that’s important to remember. Because sometimes he wasn’t always able to let him be that.  But he knows better now.   He knows that Blaine’s his person.  And that’s all that matters.  

Feeling tired, he curls up on the floor, facing Blaine so he can still watch him sleep.  He tries to get comfortable -- as comfortable as one can be on the floor of a fake elevator, uses his jacket as a pillow and tries to relax.  He reaches out towards Blaine, carefully, so not to disturb him, and gently traces his fingers over Blaine’s.  And he swears he sees a twitch of a smile on Blaine’s lips.  

His eyes remain on Blaine for a long time; his gorgeous, wonderful Blaine, and his heart aches.  They’re finding each other again, and he can’t help but be excited at the prospect.  

And as he slowly falls asleep, he thinks that maybe he won’t murder Sue Sylvester after all.  

 

***

 

“I think we can get her on at least a charge of kidnapping,” Kurt says.  It’s late that evening, he’s lying on the bed talking to Blaine on his phone.

“At least kidnapping. Definitely.”

“And maybe some kind of, I don’t even know what, some kind of sexual coercion?”

“Forced pornography!”

“That was not porn.”

“Well - to her it seemed to be.”

“Oh my god, Blaine! We don’t have any proof that she taped anything.”

“She always seems to have that flying bot all over the place.  C’mon, Kurt, can you imagine the kind of things she most likely has on video?”

“Well, maybe we can add stalking to the list, too.  None of this is really going to matter though.  I’ll show up there tomorrow, and that elevator will be gone.  And you know she’ll deny everything.”

“Yeah probably.”

“Probably.”

“Well, at least we have the knowledge that her little scheme didn’t work.  We kissed, and everything is fine.  We’re good.  Right?”

Kurt can still feel the tingle of Blaine’s lips on his, Blaine’s warm hands on his neck, their bodies pressing together.  His breath hitches just thinking about it.  That kiss.  Oh, that dizzying, passionate, world-turning kiss.  He hadn’t felt anything like that since…

“Kurt?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re okay.” He pauses.  “You know, despite being locked against our will, it was nice spending time with you again. I, um.  I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

Oh!

“So, um. So do you have any big plans for tonight?”

“No, not really.  Dave’s going out to another one of McKinley’s football games.  We’ve been to, like, all of them.  And you know I enjoy football, but high school football?  Not really football if you ask me.”

“Well, I only went because--”

“--of the scarves.  I know.”

“Yeah--um, oh hold on.”  His phone beeps, letting him know there’s another incoming call.  It’s Walter.  He sends it to voicemail without really thinking about it.  “Okay, just another call coming through.”

“Oh, do you have to go?”

“No, not at all.  Hey, would you like to hear about the play I did over the summer?”

“Of course.”

“It was an all male retelling of Snow White.”

“Were you Snow White?”

“I was Prince Snow.”

“So, essentially you were Snow White.”

“There were a lot of differences.”

“Oh, there were?”

“Yes, plenty.”

“I’m guessing the only difference was the presence of a penis.”

“Blaine! …”

***

 

Will throws an engagement party for Brittany and Santana.  Everyone’s relaxed and having a good time.  It’s funny to Kurt, they’ve been over at Will’s apartment plenty of times, but this is the first time they’re all sharing a bottle of champagne and having sushi.  It feels strangely grown up.  

Blaine’s late to arrive, and without Karofsky, much to Kurt’s delight.  Blaine doesn’t offer details as to why, nor does Kurt ask.  They don’t speak much that evening, there are too many people, too many distractions, but he notices Blaine’s eyes on him when he thinks Kurt isn’t looking.  

Kurt, in turn, can’t help but watch Blaine through the evening.  He’s supposed to be listening to Brittany and Santana dish out wedding details to he and Mercedes, but instead he’s watching as Blaine, who’s over by Sam and Rachel, enjoys a bowl of ice cream.  He’s a bit mesmerized by Blaine’s tongue, taking the time to lick every last drop of ice cream off the spoon.  Their eyes meet--and Blaine gives him a wink.  Oh, my god...

“So, why are you getting married in Indiana?” Kurt asks, forcing himself to turn back to the conversation.

“Because we’re just too cool to get married in Ohio,” Brittany says, while eyeing him suspiciously.  

“And because it’s the closest place we could go legally,” Santana adds.  “But, that’s okay.  It’ll be small and with the people we love, and that’s all that really matters.”

“It will also be the most amazing lesbian-bicorn wedding this century,” Brittany says.  “Oh, wait, is this weird for you to talk about now, Kurt?  You know, because you were totally going to marry Blaine and now you’re not, and now Santana and I are upstaging you with our awesome, awesome love.” Brittany has a twinkle in her eye, even as Santana nudges her a little.  

Kurt looks over to Blaine.  He knows what Brittany’s doing, trying to get under his skin, but it doesn’t feel as awkward as it once did.  Things have been going pretty well between them lately.  They’ve been on the phone nearly every night since Sue locked them in the elevator.  Their friendship’s firmly back on on track, and Kurt couldn’t be happier.  Sure, they were engaged once, but that hadn’t been right. Maybe what they have now -- maybe that’s right. Something’s shifted between them since the elevator.  Blaine feels different to him now, but how he can’t quite put a finger on.   Whatever this new ease between them is, he wants to hold on to it the best he can.

Mercedes, thankfully, changes the subject.  “So, we’re singing at your wedding, right?  I mean, what better time for all of us to have a fantastic party.”

“Yes, you guys are singing,” Brittany says, clapping her hands in excitement.  “And I have some new, brilliant dance moves to show off.”

“Oh, me, too,” Kurt says.  Blaine catches his eye again, so he seizes the opportunity.  He does a full body shimmie, and turns so that Blaine can see the purposeful wiggle of his ass. Santana chortles into her champagne.  Mercedes looks at him like he’s crazy.  Sam and Rachel stop their conversation to stare.  But it’s worth it.  Worth watching Blaine’s eyes grow wide with interest.  Kurt gives a shrug, as if it’s nothing.

“No, no, no,” Brittany says, aghast.  “You look ridiculous.  I’m going to have to teleport Mike Chang here so he can teach you about dancing.”

“I don’t know, I kind of like Kurt’s dancing,” Blaine says, coming to join them. “Even if it’s completely dorky.  Maybe he’ll even let me steal a dance.”

Blaine gives him a smile, somewhere between flirty and wistful.   There’s something in that look, something deeper.  They’re not just friends, though, are they.  Kurt can feel that.  He wonders if Blaine can, too.  How much can longer can they keep pretending the friends-only line is true?

“Yeah,” Kurt says, beaming.  “I’d like that.”

 

***

 

“Do you ever feel like, since coming back to Lima, you’ve gone backwards in time?” Blaine asks.  They’re sitting at their old table in the Lima Bean. Their orders haven’t changed since they were in high school.  Kurt’s laptop is open on the table. He and Blaine are supposedly trying to pick a song out for Rachel’s party, but since Blaine arrived over an hour ago, the duet’s been the last thing they’ve talked about.  

“Not really,” Kurt says, mindlessly tapping the keyboard.  “I mean, I see what you mean, but I feel more like I’m looking through a window.  This is the life I used to live, but I’m a different person now. That kind of thing.”

“Ah,” Blaine says, taking a second to look around.  “All the times we came here--I never noticed what a drab place this was.  Why did we come here so often?”

Kurt laughs into his iced mocha.  “I have no idea.”

“Hey, remember the time we came here on that double date with Finn and Rachel, and they argued the whole time.  And we couldn’t leave because they drove us?”

“Yes, but that wasn’t here,” Kurt corrects.  “That was Breadstix.  I remember because they were arguing over what chairs to use at their wedding.”

“God, yeah, that was such a stupid argument.  Probably a good thing they never got married.”  Blaine says, staring intently at his coffee cup.  He drums his fingers anxiously on the side.

“I know I was fully against it at the time, but I don’t know.  Maybe it wasn’t the worst idea they ever had.”  Kurt says.  Blaine’s eyes widen.  

Blaine bites his lip, thinking.  “Hey, remember how they ended up making out in the backseat, and I had to drive Finn’s car home?”

“Yes! And when we got home, we had really loud sex in attempt to annoy them?”

“And your dad heard us, and told us to quiet down and make sure we were wearing condoms.”

They both begin to crack up, Kurt burying his head in his hands as he recalls that traumatizing memory.  What an embarrassing night, but they’re laughing so hard now, that Kurt has tears running down his face.  God, when was the last time they laughed that hard together?

Once they settle down, Blaine leans back in his chair and sighs. “Do you ever wish you could go back and do it all over again?  Only make less mistakes?”

“I think making those mistakes the first time is what helps us grow up.”

“...Oh.”

“But, I do believe in second chances.  Maybe that’s why we’re both in Lima again.  Maybe we’re here to take the other path.  To start over at the crossroads again.  And then we return to New York in a better place that we started.”

Blaine looks away.  “I don’t think I’m going back to New York.”

“What are you going to do then? Stay here?” Kurt asks.  “You can’t hide at Dalton forever.”

“I’m not hiding at Dalton.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“I don’t know, Kurt.” Anger slides into Blaine’s voice.  “I’m not you.  I don’t have this whole thing figured out.”  

Kurt grabs Blaine’s hand.  “You know, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over this summer, it’s that I have no idea what I’m doing either.  And, you know, I’m still here for you if you need someone to help figure that out.”

 _Are you_? Blaine asks, but only with his eyes.  He’s reading Kurt, searching, but Kurt isn’t quite sure how to respond.  He squeezes Blaine’s hand -- as if to say that they’re in this together.  They always have been, even throughout all the bumps in the road.  

The moment is charged, electric and intense.  It would be so easy to draw close, to give Blaine that kiss that’s lingering in the air. He doesn’t care that they’re in public, that they’re in Ohio, he could drag Blaine out of there right then.  He could show Blaine just how much he loves him, how much he’s sorry for everything that’s transpired between them, that no matter what, he always has Blaine’s back.  And he knows Blaine has his.  They’re so close now.  So close...

Blaine breaks first.  “We should probably figure what we’re going to sing.”

“Right,” Kurt lets go of Blaine’s hand and sits straight in his chair.  The moment has passed but the tension’s still there. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“Well, there is that new Betty Who song…”

 

***

 

Kurt has a hard time concentrating all through dinner.  The company is pleasant enough.  Walter impresses Rachel with his knowledge of failed Broadway musicals, and bonds with Sam over questionable impressions.  Afterwards, Rachel compliments Kurt on what a great catch Walter is.  And he does agree.  Walter is a fantastic catch.  But maybe not for him.  

When they started spending time together, Kurt thought that maybe, just maybe he could spark something new with someone.  He knew he and Walter were never going to be long-lasting, but he enjoyed Walter’s company. Perhaps just having that friendly connection would bring about stronger feelings.  But those feelings haven’t materialized.  And the more time he spends with Walter, the more he knows that this thing has run its course.  

He doesn’t break it off with Walter that night; not after the good time they’ve had, not in front of his friends.  But it’s something Kurt’s going to do need to do soon.  Walter talks of future dates, and future plans, and is beginning to hint that Kurt might be a part of them.  

Meanwhile, he can’t keep his mind off Blaine. Off their unanticipated kiss the night of Rachel's party.  The night in the elevator had gone a long way in healing them, of bringing back the passion, of reminding them what they could be. The long talks at night, after he’d returned home from dates with Walter, had restored their friendship.  

But Rachel’s party--that had been something else.  There had been magic in the air, a duet that stoked maybe not-so-deeply-hidden feelings, the touches and the glances and being in that bubble again, even with people around.  And then that kiss.  He had never expected Blaine to kiss him.  Because Blaine’s still careful about Karofsky, because Blaine’s heart might still be timid after everything that’s happened, because Kurt won’t let himself want anything more than he can have at the moment.  That kiss had been completely unexpected.   That kiss had been confirmation that Blaine still had feelings.  And that meant everything.

Kurt’s mind turns to Blaine running into the choir room.  He knows Blaine had come there to see him, despite any excuse he might have given.  Blaine had been about to tell him something, maybe something important.  But what? Kurt’s not sure.  But something--

But whatever it was doesn’t change the fact that no matter how hard tries, Kurt can no longer deny the fact that his heart knows what it wants.  His heart has always known what it wants.  It’s just a matter of making it happen.

When he gets home that night, he toys with calling Blaine. It’s late, who knows what Blaine and Karofsky are doing.  But still -- the curiosity is getting to him.  What did Blaine want?  

“Kurt,” Blaine’s voice sounds a little groggy when he answers the phone.  “Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” Kurt assures him.  

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your double date?”

“That ended a little while ago.  I’m sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, it’s fine.  What’s up?”

“Well, um.  Are you sure it wasn’t me you wanted to speak to earlier?”

It’s a long pause before Blaine answers.  “No, I um…  Mom is doing make-up for Brittany and Santana’s wedding, so she asked me to get some information from them.  And I figured since Rachel was there…”

Blaine’s lying.  He knows Blaine well enough to know that.  

“Alright, well I just thought I’d make sure.”  

“Was that all you needed? Or was there something else?”  The question hangs heavily in the air.  

I’m breaking it off with Walter because I’m still in love with you, he wants to say.  I’m always going to be in love with you. And you kissing me at Rachel’s party? That meant something, too.  You still love me, too. I can feel it.  So, forget about Karofsky.  Forget about all the stupid mistakes we’ve made in the past.  Let’s stop dancing around each other and start again.  Because that’s what we both really want.   

But he doesn’t say any of that.  Instead--

“I just wanted you to know…” he takes a deep breath.  “If you ever need anything--Seriously.  Anything.  You can come talk to me about it.”

“I know.” He can feel Blaine smiling through the phone.  “Thanks for calling, Kurt.

“Night, Blaine.”

“Night, Kurt.”

 

***

 

He didn’t think it would happen.  He didn’t think it _could_ happen.  After two days of rigorous work -- and arguing with Artie and Tina, and meeting Brittany’s insane demands, the barn is finished.  And he has to admit, with all the Christmas lights, and the flowers, and the streamers, it looks amazing and romantic.  As everyone else heads back to the truck for some apple cider, he remains in the center, taking the atmosphere in.  He’s always loved weddings -- ever since he was a little boy and dreaming of one of his own.  

“I can hear you thinking, Kurt Hummel,” Brittany says as she enters the barn again.

“Oh, really,” he says.  “And what is it that I’m thinking?”

She bounces happily on her feet.  “You’re thinking about how awful it is to watch Santana’s and my romance come to a perfect storybook conclusion while your relationship with Blaine is still so painful and fraught.  And there’s still no prospect of you getting back together, right?  Is it going to be weird being at the wedding with your new boyfriend who’s old and looking over and seeing Blaine and thinking about what could have been?   It must be hard -- drowning in all those regrets.”

He rolls his eyes at her, even if similar thoughts had crossed his mind.  “Look, I don’t regret calling off my wedding,” he says, though she scoffs at him.  “No, listen, I’ve thought about this a thousand times.  I wasn’t ready to be married six months ago.  I was scared.  I’ll admit that, I was scared.  And Blaine and I, we just didn’t--  We didn’t know how to live with each other, how to say all the things we were feeling. And I was more afraid of getting hurt again then really giving us the chance to be everything I know we can be now.  I shouldn’t have broken up with him.  That part I know now, but maybe I had to learn the hard way what fighting for your relationship means.  Maybe we both needed some time to clear our heads.  And maybe, and this is ‘if’ of course, when we get back together, we’ll be stronger people for having gone through all of this.”

She folds her arms.  “See, here’s the thing.  I told you weeks ago that you need to stop standing still while the world passed you by.  And clearly, you don’t understand my genius, because if you did, you wouldn’t be here telling _me_ all of this.  You’d be saying all of this to Blaine.  Because right now, even with your grandpa boyfriend and your new philosophical attitude, you’re still in the same place you were a month ago.”

And that’s when it clicks.  

She’s exactly right.  

The next morning, while getting coffee, he breaks it off with Walter, who’s incredibly good-natured and compassionate about it.  And as Walter talks of young-love and seizing the world, he knows what he has to do next.  

He’s going to find the man he loves, and show him just how much he loves him.

He leaves the coffee shop, and begins to run towards Blaine.  


	10. As If We Never Said Goodbye

_I've spent so many mornings just trying to resist you_  
_I'm trembling now, you can't know how I've missed you_  
_Missed the fairy tale adventure_  
_In this ever spinning playground_  
_We were young together._  
  
_We taught the world new ways to dream…_  


**November 2011**

It’s sometime in the morning.   The sunlight streams in from the window and lands warm on Kurt’s cheek.  He stretches underneath the covers, not quite ready to open his eyes.  The bed’s comfortable and snug and he feels lazy in his awakening.  He stretches.  His legs are tangled up with someone else’s.  There’s a hand gently caressing his hip.  He can feel someone staring at him.  He’s not in his own bed, he realizes, and smiles at the thought.  

“Morning, weirdo,” he says sleepily.  He does manage to peer one eye open to find Blaine grinning at him, his golden eyes warm and excited.  

“I was dreaming about waking up to a gorgeous boy in my bed,” Blaine says.  “And then I realized it wasn’t a dream at all.”

Blaine is so ridiculous, but that doesn’t stop Kurt from blushing.  

Kurt blinks fully awake.  “Hi.”

“Hey.”

They stare giddily at each other.  

Last night had been, god, so amazing.  Sex had always been this thing that intimidated him.  An abstract idea that was for other people. Until Blaine.  The way Blaine made him feel last night, his body so close and intimate.  Kurt had never felt so safe, and so loved, and so connected.  He wants to stay in this bed forever, and bask in this perfect, perfect moment.  

As if reading his mind, Blaine leans forward and gives him a firm kiss on the lips.  

Kurt scrunches his nose.  “Morning breath.”

Blaine laughing, takes it as a challenge, and begins to pepper Kurt’s jawline with kisses, working his way down Kurt’s neck.  Kurt can’t help but giggle as he does so.  Blaine then sucks a kiss on his clavicle before settling down again next to him.  Kurt reaches for Blaine’s hand, entwining their hands, just wanting Blaine’s skin against his. Blaine slides his leg over Kurt’s hip, pulling Kurt just a little close so they can nuzzle their noses together.

His thoughts flutter to the previous night, when Blaine touched him in ways no one else ever had, in ways he'd sometimes thought no one ever would.  He never thought he’d be comfortable, bare skin against skin.  He thought he'd feel too vulnerable, but last night, and now this morning, all he wants to do is keep touching, to keep letting Blaine in.  They’re connected, now, deeper than they’ve ever been.  Not just their bodies, but their hearts as well.

“You were wonderful last night,” Kurt says.  He can’t keep the grin off his face as he casually plays with a curl that’s managed to come loose near Blaine’s temple.  He closes his eyes for a second and remembers- _everything_.  “So good.”

Blaine runs a hand up and down Kurt’s arm, and around to massage his back.  His touch is electric.

“I can’t believe we--” Blaine’s cheeks flush. “That was the best night of my life, Kurt.  I just--”

“I know, I feel the same way,” Kurt says.  He doesn't think he’s ever felt so good. “ Don’t you just-- want to do this for the rest of your life?”

Blaine freezes, and raises his eyebrows.  “Oh?”

He has fantasies, ones that are well kept and dear to his heart.  They may seem silly, or even frivolous to some, but the way Blaine’s looking at him, his eyes locked onto Kurt’s, so open and understanding, he feels like he can share anything with Blaine now.  He trusts Blaine with his heart, and lets himself indulge.

“We could get married,” Kurt says. “ I mean, not until we’re, like, thirty.  By then we’ll have saved enough money to have the most extravagant wedding.”

“Of course.”

“And then we can just live our lives, and be artists, and own a lighthouse in Provincetown, and make our own food.  And wake up every morning exactly like this.”

Blaine laughs.  “You are utterly ridiculous.  But I love you so, so much.”

“I love you, too.”

Blaine traces his fingers over Kurt’s brow, then down his cheek and slowly over his lips.  The intimacy of it makes Kurt’s heart race.  He’s never felt so open before.  Not even last night when they were sharing everything.  Spoken words can’t even touch the depths of how much he loves this boy.  It’s not something he’ll ever be able to articulate.  But he can feel it in every fiber of his body.

“You know, I know what song I would sing to you at our wedding?” Blaine says.

“What’s that?”

“ _I never knew I could feel like this_ ,” Blaine sings softly, barely a raspy whisper.  And Kurt knows exactly what song this is.  He has this song etched in his heart.  “ _Like I’ve never seen the sky before_.”

“ _Come what may_ ….”

“ _I will love you --- until my dying day_.”

Kurt surges forward to give Blaine a deep kiss, morning breath be damned, he wants to feel Blaine everywhere again.  Blaine pushes him into the bed, rolls onto top of him, and kisses him harder.  Blaine then kicks away the covers, and begins to work his way down Kurt’s chest, placing tender kisses everywhere on his skin, making him feel so cherished and adored.  This is love.  This is raw, cracked-open, all-consuming love.  And as Blaine sinks his mouth onto Kurt’s stiffening cock, Kurt just wants to stay in this ecstasy forever.

  


**November 2014**

“Kurt, are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay.  Look--I love you, I still love you.  I know everything was completely a mess before, but everything’s fine now, so will you go to the wedding with me? I mean, unless there’s someone else.”

“There’s no one else.”

He clings to Blaine tightly as they kiss with passion and intensity.  Blaine is back in his arms, as he always should have been.  The kiss is a statement, a truth that he’ll never let go of Blaine again.  It’s everything; everything he had been missing in his life, everything he’s never going to take for granted again.  He kisses Blaine hard and sure.  He loves this man, and that’s all that matters.  

Blaine wraps him up in his arms as they relax into the kiss.  He feels grounded in Blaine’s embrace, sturdy and clearheaded. All the tension and anxiety Kurt had felt on his run over seems to melt away, and the world turns itself right again.  He has Blaine back now.  Blaine’s forgiven him, and still wants him, and it feels like coming home again.  They stay in that spot, in a kiss that Kurt doesn’t want to ever end -- two puzzle pieces finally glued back together that won’t ever be pulled apart again.

“So, no more Walter?” Blaine asks, almost casually, between kisses.  He slowly begins to push Kurt back towards the bedroom.

“Nope.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt can see the boxes.  He doesn’t need the details, Karofsky’s gone and that’s all that matters.  Blaine slides his tongue deliciously into Kurt’s mouth. That’s all that’s needed to pull his attention back to more important things.  

Blaine’s quick to undo Kurt’s vest and shirt, pushing them off his shoulders, tearing through the layers to get his hands on Kurt’s skin.  Kurt, meanwhile, wastes no time undoing Blaine’s bowtie, and tugging at Blaine’s polo to come off, it’s as if he’s unwrapping a present he’s desperate to have.  Their shirts fall to the floor, forgotten as their bodies crash together again.  Kurt runs his hands over Blaine’s chest, shoulders, arms, back, everywhere, reveling in the fact that he gets to touch again.  

“It’s a little last minute to be asking me for a date, don’t you think?” Blaine says flirtation easy in his voice as they reach the bed.

“Why? Did you agree to go with Tina again?” Kurt pushes him onto the bed with a laugh, and climbs on top of him.   He takes a moment to lavish Blaine with kisses, remembering easily what makes Blaine feel good; sucking that one spot on Blaine’s neck that makes him groan, covering his chest with quick pecks, licking over a nipple.  Kurt works his way back to Blaine’s mouth as they settle into an easy rhythm.   Blaine relaxes underneath him, unguarded and open, and Kurt loves that he can still make him feel that way.   

“Pretty sure Tina’s been eying Mike again,” Blaine says, breaking a moment so they can catch their breath.   He slides his hands down to grab Kurt’s ass, and press their bodies together, their hips beginning to pick up a rhythm.  Kurt’s hard and ready and could stay lost in this feeling but he’s not ready for it to end yet.  

“Good,” Kurt says.  He sits up and sneaks a hand between them, keeping his eyes locked with Blaine as he tugs Blaine’s zipper right down without looking, and grins devilishly as he wastes no time pulling Blaine’s cock out, stroking it firmly.

“This time I’ll be able to blow you in the car without interruption.”

“God, fuck, Ku-urt…”  

Kurt loves this; loves that he can still make Blaine feel this way, loves that just his touch can make Blaine undone, loves that after all this time, after everything that’s happened, they can still share this intimacy, still be safe in each other’s hands.  Their connection is still firmly intact, their love for each other hasn’t waned, and if anything, has grown stronger.  

“Wait--” Blaine stills Kurt’s hand, then reaches out to squeeze Kurt through his pants.  Kurt stops, and basks in the pleasure that Blaine gives him.  It’s not enough, though, he wants more.   “What do you need, Kurt? What can I--”

“Let me fuck you,” Kurt says, staring deeply into Blaine’s eyes.  He wants Blaine to know how much he loves him, how much he’s sure that this is it, that they’re cemented together in this love.  He wants Blaine to feel safe under him, that he can trust Kurt with his heart again, that it’s okay to let go, that they’ll remain tethered together--just as Blaine had made him feel so many, many times before.  

Blaine’s eyes grow wide and dark as he nods slowly.  Yes, _yes_ , they can most definitely do that.  Blaine’s letting him in again, and it’s the most assuring thing he’s ever felt.  

Kurt gives Blaine a searing kiss before pulling Blaine the rest of the way out of his pants.  He then quickly discards his own as Blaine digs into the nightstand for condoms and lube.  

Blaine latches onto Kurt’s cock again, bringing him to full hardness.  He steals a second to suck the head of Kurt’s cock.

“Fuck, Blaine,” Kurt moans.

Blaine’s eager mouth alone could make him lose control.  He could so easily get lost in Blaine’s touch, and would willing let him, but Kurt has other plans.  He gently pushes at Blaine’s shoulder, and Blaine gives one last, lingering suck of Kurt’s cock before pulling off.  Blaine rolls on the condom as Kurt takes a second to recover.

They reposition a little, Blaine getting pillows to put under him so he’s comfortable, then spreads his legs and let’s Kurt take over.  With a generous amount of lube and his fingers, Kurt begins to work him open, Blaine all the while moaning and muttering little obscenities.  Blaine, in turn, leisurely strokes Kurt’s cock, enough to keep him on edge, but not push him over.  

“Kurt?”

“Yeah?

Blaine let’s go of his cock so to draw him for the tenderest of kisses, pulls back to share a loving look with Kurt.  Kurt feels a surge of warmth in his heart.  Blaine’s ready to trust him again.  

“Please, fuck me now.”

“Okay…”  

He slowly pushes into Blaine, savoring the way Blaine feels so warm around him.  His movements are slow at first, and measured, taking his time to set up a rhythm.  It reminds him of when they first started having sex, how aware he had been of every touch, every moment, and how it made him feel so alive.  But unlike their first awkward and fumbling times, Kurt knows Blaine’s body as as he knows his own.  He knows Blaine likes to start out slow, likes to continue to kiss deeply, likes it when Kurt sucks his tongue into his mouth. He knows that Blaine will cocoon around him, warm and weighty and waiting for Kurt to just take control.  He knows what angle to work Blaine until he’s an utter mess beneath him.  And Kurt loves that he knows all of it; takes comfort that it’s a sign that Blaine’s letting him back in.  

And, oh, god, how he’s missed this.  Sure, he missed sex while they were apart.  But what he’s really missed is this kind of sex.  Real sex.   Where Kurt’s heart feels open and full.   Where he feels safe enough to just let go, and let himself be connected to Blaine in every possible way.   This is love, and he doesn’t think he he’s ever felt it so deeply or so strongly before.  

He let’s his body choose the rhythm, pistoning his hips, fucking into Blaine until he can no longer control it.  He shouts Blaine’s name as he comes, buried deep in him, feeling the ecstasy of the orgasam all the way to his toes.  He pumps a few more, shallow times before collapsing on the bed.  

Blaine’s quick to take care of him, disposing of the condom, while giving light, butterfly kisses on his skin.  

Blaine still needs to finish, and he begins to use his hand to jerk himself off.  Kurt swats it away.  

“Let me,” Kurt insists.

He sinks his mouth over Blaine’s cock, sucking greedily, enjoying the taste of Blaine that he’s missed. It’s not long before Kurt can tell that Blaine’s close and pulls off, switching to suck at his balls and jerk him until he comes.

“Kurt!” Blaine cries as he finishes, Kurt feeling Blaine’s entire body shudder underneath him.

Kurt smiles, and sucks a kiss to Blaine’s spent cock before climbing back up the bed.  The two of them stare giddily at each other as they catch their breath.

“Is this the part where you try to convince me that we’re not back together?” There’s something different about the way Blaine asks it.  It’s teasing and playful. There’s no doubt or concern in his eyes.  He knows.  He knows as well as Kurt does that this is it.  They’re in this together.  They belong to each other, they’ve always belonged to each other.

This isn’t a fairy tale, there is no romanticized yet vague happily ever after.  This is a connection, a tether tied tightly between them, a belief that they want this relationship, want each other more than anything.  And that they’ll work hard for it, fight for it, know that it’s delicate and precious and take care of it.  Kurt understands and trusts the depth of this love.  And he’ll hold onto it for the rest of his life.

“I told you I came back for your heart,” Kurt says.  He pulls Blaine close.  They’ve spent too long apart.  Now he needs to feel Blaine close to him, the beat of his heart, the softness of his breath, warmth of his skin.  Kurt looks deeply into Blaine’s eyes.  Everything’s so clear now, so bright.  

“You have it,” Blaine says, tracing a finger over Kurt’s own heart. “You always have.”

There are so many to say, so many things to catch up on and work out.  So much lost time to make up for.   For now, though, Kurt doesn’t want to do anything more than stay there in Blaine’s arms.  They’re at the beginning of something big, something long lasting, something real.  And they’ll have plenty of time to to do it all..

“I love you, Blaine,” he says as they nuzzle their noses together.

“I love you, too, Kurt.”

 

***

 

It’s a cool night, but pleasant.  Kurt can hear laughter and music and happy chatter coming from inside the barn, but he’s outside, needing to take a moment for himself.  He leans casually against the barn and looks up to the sky, where millions of stars glitter above him.  He loves the city undeniably, but there’s something about the simpleness of the country, the soft swish of the wind through the trees, the wide open spaces of nature that he finds peaceful.  Or maybe, he thinks as he plays with the new ring on his finger, he’s just at peace for the first time in, well, maybe his whole life.

A car door slams. An engine rumbles in the distance.  He turns to see Brittany and Santana have also made their escape, heads together giggling as they get ready to drive off.  They don’t see him, and that’s fine.  He owes them a thank you, but that will be later.  They’re wrapped up in their own little world -- most likely not wanting any intrusion.  He understands that feeling all too well.

The commotion coming from inside the barn quiets down, and a slow piece of music begins to play over the speakers.  Rachel’s voice begins to sing, clearly, and Kurt can’t help but grin when he realizes what song it is.  He wonders how much Blaine offered her so she’d sing it.  

“Excuse me,” comes a voice.  Blaine’s only a silhouette, but offers his hand like the gentleman that he is. He can hear the smile in Blaine’s voice.  “May I have this dance?”

Kurt gladly takes it.  “Yes, yes you may.”

They hold each other close, and slowly sway to the music underneath the moonlight.  It’s their first dance -- first real dance together as a married couple.  Kurt’s glad they can have this moment alone, just the two of them.  He nuzzles his cheek against Blaine’s.  Against his _husband’s_.  It’ll be a while before that word really can sink in.  It’s the most impulsive decision he’s ever made in his life.  And he’s absolutely grateful that he did.  He loves this man, his husband, his Blaine, more than anything else in the world.  And nothing will ever feel as right as being held in his arms.  

The music slows, and they come to a stand still, neither about to let the other go.  Blaine draws him in for a lingering kiss.  A kiss that still takes Kurt’s breath away.

“I can’t believe we did this,” Blaine says, burying himself in Kurt’s shoulder, not able to contain his grin.  It’s infectious.   “I can’t believe we’re married.”

“I can’t believe we crashed Santana Lopez’s wedding.  I would have never in a million years guessed that would happen.”

“I can’t believe Brittany had cardboard cutouts of us.  Where did she even get those?”

“Probably the same place Sue got the forged marriage license.  God, I can’t believe Sue Sylvester orchestrated all of this.”

“You know, we may have to drop the kidnapping charges.”

They both break down in laughter, embracing each other tight as the laughter turns to tears.  

“Oh, I love you so much, Blaine,” Kurt says.  

“I love you, too, and…” Blaine lets go to reach into his pocket.  He pulls out a set of keys.  “Mom offered to take your dad and Carole home, which means…” Which means, they get the car.  “They reserved a hotel for us, so we can have the night alone.  It’s not the Hilton, but they didn’t think we’d care.”

Kurt’s eyes light up, as he takes the keys.  “Let’s go.”

“Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”

Kurt shakes his head.  They’ll see everyone again, and surely they’ll see them soon.  They have plenty of thank yous to give out, plenty of people to share their love with.  But right now, he wants nothing more than to be alone with his husband.  He holds out a hand for Blaine to take.  “C’mon, let’s go celebrate our marriage.”

Blaine laughs as he takes Kurt’s hand.  

***

 

The hotel isn’t anything to write home about.  The decor is dull, the window looks out onto an industrial park, and the room has a musty smell to it.  The important thing is that it has a bed, and that’s all Kurt cares about.  

It’s sometime early in the morning, the first signs of daybreak coming through the window.  They spent most of the night not sleeping in the bed.  Now they’re cuddled together on the chair in the corner of the room.  Kurt’s sitting on Blaine’s lap, relaxed and sleepy, his head resting on Blaine’s shoulder.  He lazily plays with a loose string on the end of undershirt Blaine had put back on, before tracing his finger down Blaine’s arm.

“Never thought I’d spend my wedding night in the middle-of-nowhere Indiana,” Kurt says.  “Doesn’t really matter.  As long as I’m with you.”  

“I love you, too,” Blaine says, giving him a soft kiss on the lips.  

“Maybe we should take our time getting back to Ohio,” Kurt says.  “They don’t really need us there right away, right? Maybe give us a little more time to spend with each other -- just the two of us?”

“Stop at little tourist traps along the way?” Blaine says.  “Maybe find a cute bed and breakfast, or a flea market or something.  Or maybe get out of this hotel and walk around, find a nice cafe or something..  Think there’s anything to do in this small town?”

“You,” Kurt gives him a wicked grin.

“Ku-urt…”

Kurt spreads his hand out over Blaine’s, and examines the rings on their fingers.  He still can’t believe they’re married.  It’s crazy, and amazing, and god, he has a husband now.  He has Blaine now -- for good.  

“Do you think we should get new ones?” Blaine asks, reading Kurt’s mind.

“No, I like them,” Kurt laces fingers through Blaine’s.  “They’re simple and understated.  And unlike many of my fashion choices, definitely not flashy.  Maybe we can be one of those couples who gets something inscribed on the inside, and it’ll be this thing that only the two of us know about.”

“I like that,” Blaine says.  “I’m a little surprised Sue didn’t have something already inscribed -- like Klaine4Ever or something equally ridiculous.”

“Oh my god, we can only be so grateful,” Kurt says.  He uses his free hand to play with Blaine’s ring.  “You know, when we get back to NYADA, everyone’s going to flip.”

“Kurt--” There’s a little bit of hesitance in Blaine’s voice.  “I’m not going back to NYADA.”

“Oh? I’m sure Carmen Tibideaux would let you back in if you just explained everything.”

“Yeah, um, no.  Before we got back together, I started applying to other schools.  NYU’s program looks pretty good, actually.  And I think it might be better for me, and for our relationship if I’m trying to make it on my own path.”

“Alright,” Kurt kisses his temple, and Blaine relaxes into him. “That sounds like a great idea, actually.”

“To be honest,” Blaine says.  “I’m a little more concerned about where we’re going to live once we head back.”

“Well, I am on a housing waiting list for NYADA, I’m sure they have a specific space for married students.  And Elliott will probably let us stay with him until we get it all figured out.  I mean, we’ll probably be living on top of each other again, but it shouldn’t be too bad...what?”

Blaine’s brow wrinkles with concern.  He let’s go of Kurt’s hand to wrap himself around Kurt’s waist and pulls him tight.  “Not that I want to burst this bubble we just--we haven’t talked about before.  About how things weren’t working.”

“Blaine, we’ve both fucked up this relationship,” Kurt says.  “And I’m sure we’re not done making mistakes, but I think the biggest thing is that we’re both trying to learn from them.  And this--” he holds up his ring finger. “This is a reminder that we can’t just run away when it gets hard.”

“Or stop talking,” Blaine adds.

“And besides, if we drive each other too crazy, I do know a great therapist we can see,” Kurt says.  Blaine lets out a laugh.  “But more importantly, when we get back to Lima, we’ll sit down and work things out.  Blaine, marrying you was the best decision I have ever made.  And as much as I love this fantasy bubble we’re in right now, as much as I love the prospect of going on a real honeymoon, and catching up for all the time we’ve missed, the thing I’m really looking forward to is starting this marriage, and the rest of our lives, together.  Because I think that we are awesome together.”

Blaine grins, as sure as Kurt that this will work this time.  “We are awesome together, aren’t we?”

Kurt draws Blaine in for a kiss; a long, and lingering and savoring kiss.  Kurt doesn’t just have a husband now.  He has Blaine as a husband.  And an amazing, fantastic future to look forward to.  

They break apart, and Blaine leans his forehead against Kurt’s.  “I think I want to find something to do in Indiana now.”

Kurt laughs, as Blaine slides a hand down to squeeze his ass.  “Yeah, you should do something in Indiana.”

 

 

**November 2020**

It’s a little bit surreal walking through these halls.  When he first heard Dalton Academy was going to be rebuilt, he figured they’d get a new architect and update the design. Instead, they took the original plans for the building and recreated the school alarmingly close the the original.  Even the wallpaper and the light fixtures were the same.  It’s almost as if he’s walked into his past.

They had come back because Blaine had been asked to be apart of the ribbon cutting ceremony later that week.  All of the thousands of alumni had been invited back, but of course Blaine wanted to be a part of it. He had taken an active part in getting the school rebuilt in the first place.  

So, as Blaine keeps busy in some meeting or another, Kurt wanders the halls -- in amazement that things that happened nearly a decade ago could feel so close again.

“You know, this is where your Papa and Daddy first met,” Kurt says to his young daughter Katie, who’s strapped to his chest.  Katie is having a grand old time, babbling, and drooling, and whacking her toy on Kurt’s chest.  He looks at his daughter fondly, so full of love for this little creature the he and Blaine share.  He knows it’s not possible, but she looks like both of them.  She’s has Kurt’s bright blue eyes and smile, and Blaine’s dark, curly hair and expressive eyebrows.  And she shares a love of singing, which he’s sure they both gave to her.  

As they walk, he continues to talk to her, telling her stories about life back at Dalton.  Blaine had always been more attached to the place than he had.  But he can’t help but feel a little nostalgic as he walks quite literally down memory lane.  

The phone in his pocket buzzes.  It’s Rachel, reminding him that they’re needed back at his Dad’s place.  He laughs at her attempt at secrecy and vagueness, because he knows exactly what this is for -- a surprise anniversary party for them (and for Brittany and Santana, whom they haven’t seen much of in the past few years). Everyone’s back in Lima for the auditorium dedication and special glee club reunion put on not just by Will Schuester, but by Vice President Sue Sylvester of all people, as well. It’s a perfect time to throw a big party under the pretense of being for anniversaries.  Rachel and his dad were bad at being subtle about the whole thing.  But he’s glad it’s happening.  

Their life in New York is full.  They’ll be moving out of their tiny apartment into a house out on Long Island soon. Kurt has a few acting gigs lined up for the spring, as well as a clothing line he’ll be premiering.  And Blaine has a workshop for the musical he’s been writing for the past few years.  His dad and Carole come to visit often, as well as Blaine’s family when they can.  They still see Rachel and Mercedes and Elliott and sometimes Sam on a regular basis.  Things are so, so good in New York.  But he’s glad they’ve been able to make it back to Lima.  He’s glad they can slow down for just a moment and appreciate how far they’ve all come.  

Six years he and Blaine have been married now, a full decade since they’ve been together.  God, and it feels like a blink of an eye -- and he can only imagine how quickly time will fly from here.  He and Blaine have had a good life together so far, even if it hasn’t always been perfect.  There have been a few rough patches, and two narrow times where things have felt hopeless.  But the good times have far outweighed them.  It’s been quite the adventure, being married to Blaine, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.  

When Kurt comes to it, he’s shocked that he’s forgotten.  He looks up and sees that brilliant glass dome over the winding staircase.  Oh, does it take him back….

“Kurt?”

Kurt looks down and sees his husband waiting for them at the bottom of the staircase.

Katie sees him too, and full of delight, reaches a hand out for him.  “Da, da, da, da,” she cries.

“Yeah, that’s your Daddy, isn’t it?” Kurt says, and looks lovingly down to Blaine, who is wearing one of the old Dalton blazers.  “He looks just like a prince, doesn’t he?”

Kurt begins to descend the stairs...

 

**November 2010**

...wondering what’s going on around him, he reaches out to the boy in front of him, a startlingly handsome boy in a dark blue blazer.  The boy flashes a smile; a genuine, pleased-to-see-Kurt smile.   It stuns him for a moment.  No boy had ever given him a smile like that before.  

“My name’s Blaine.” His grin doesn’t falter.

“Kurt,” he says, a little shyly.  

The two lock eyes, and for a split second, Kurt swears he sees everything -- a future, a lifetime of wonderful possibilities, all the things he had only ever dreamed about.  

The boy offers Kurt his hand, and Kurt gladly takes it.

And with every broken bone, they live happily ever after.


End file.
